…Oh, you know – when spectres come a sneaking ’round blind corners behind you; sounds sensed rather than heard; glimpses – frolicking light and racing shadow painting the imagination (you know the mind abhors a vacuum!) glancing attempts at reassurance falling flat.
…Reaching quite unconsciously for a talisman – generational I shouldn’t wonder – reflecting the oh, depth of spirit shall we say? This one whistled – can you imagine!? – a shallow little show tune from a time and place no longer comprehended – he’d heard it as a child.
Copyright 2018 Rosalind Harbin – Even if it is a snippet 😉