Memoir I’ll Never Write

I remembered us sprawled out on the bed. It was back when I was in high school. Mom had to go back to the office in awhile and we were just lying on the bed staring at nothing in particular, talking about nothing in particular.

When suddenly, I excitedly pointed up at the wall above the curtain. The darkness had painted a brilliant map; of the roads, the trees and the people- both moving and stationary.

The sunlight streaming through had connected in a trance with the shades of dark to create sight. At that moment, there was enough meaning to just stare. At that moment, that was magic.

2 thoughts on “Memoir I’ll Never Write

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s