Collage of a Broken Year

Moments. A year is comprised of thirty-one million, five hundred and fifty-seven thousand seconds; most of them pass without a second’s thought.

They should have been memorable.

No-one mourns the loss of a second but the fracturing of hours, days, months becomes issue.

Fleeting images, corrupted moments.

All that remains.

In writing, a version of the truth exists, the book heavy and laden with emotions locked away.

In the mind, nought but a collage of a broken year.

Vignettes intense and emotional; shards of joy and shame. Reflections like seven year’s bad luck return slivers of my past.

Reminders of the times surround me; flashbacks to times forgotten ambush occasionally.

The present surrounds me, pleasant, hopeful;

No rewinds, no repeats.

The path once walked crumbled; a new direction paved.