In the dark alley she stood, taking in her surrounds before deciding to move on. She came to this location looking for something, or looking for someone. She kept a low profile and didn’t converse with the locals unless she had to. The name she gave when needed was always a fictitious one, leaving as little of trail as she could. Invisible is how she needed to be.
Although the day was dreary and gray, she sat inside the cafe staring out the window, watching the people walk up and down the streets. What seemed so complacent was soon going to turn into an event of chaos that she was unaware of. She had a few errands to run and was taking a moment in the cafe. As she watched the people outside, she noticed something odd in the distance. The skies that filled were darker, and although on a dreary day that isn’t so unusual, but these clouds were different, didn’t seem match with the rest of the sky. This puzzled her as she stared out and now focused on those clouds.
She looked at herself in the mirror one more time. What did she see, she thought to herself. A comment she overheard about her appearance had upset her a bit. Although age was starting to show, it was also clear that even with age her appearance was a bit darker than she wanted to admit. What tales do the faded blues of her eyes tell. What roads has she traveled so through the years that have caused so much pain.
She could remember the beauty she had, the livelyness displayed as she entered a room, the smile and laughter she shared with others around her. Now she is just a shell of her former self. The look of a person hitting rock bottom and having to learn all over again how to live.
*dedicated to someone of old
A dream you cannot quite remember
the shadow of the hunstman
a falling tree
The gleam on the sea as the journey ends
a room you are never allowed into
a lake in a pine forest
Rain on a sheet of still water
grains of spilt sugar underfoot
Small children in a playground
cloud – shadow
A stone in your shoe
an empty egg shell on the grass
a wind in church
A telephone that stops rining just as you reach it
a voice laughing behind closed doors
a missing tooth
People are never more insecure,
than when they become;
Obsessed with their fears at the,
expense of their dreams.