first and third
By harrybarry
- 491 reads
After nearly twenty years of marriage here we are, him and me, walking at dusk across this field. It is like we have navigated the woods and here is the clearing. I turn and look back – that big burning sun, going down through the black silhouetted branches – my life – burning, sinking with those dark black shadows. Will I still have a job when it comes back up again? Will that sun pay the mortgage? It has been so long, me and him, and now it has come to this. Where is his concern, his sympathy, his caring? It is like he is burning out too.
He looked to the east – the biggest clearest moon he thought he had ever seen. It was just appearing on the horizon, starting to shine on the very top of the churchtower. She kept looking back, but he wouldn’t – couldn’t. He had to look forward. There must be somewhere. The moon would show him. It would shine its silvery light, like a torch, showing him the route he must take.
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I like the dreamy quality of
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