![]() He could easily have found that picture in the endless, trash-filled wasteland, and simply forgotten he never knew any of those people. For all he knew, it was a dream within a nightmare, some faculty of human survival he’d never been aware of-something to keep the soul going. His head ached, torn between realities, one of which he couldn’t be sure existed. But the source of those feelings remained unknown. It held part of him in a forgotten place of warmth and hope. ![]() The picture tethered him to what was before. He had to relearn who he was, as did everyone else. The end wiped clean all sins, but all good deeds as well as if a switch had been flipped, those who survived born anew. Often, he mused it was the sun in her eyes-mere speculation, as the gray expanse that once thrived with the living, now decayed with the dead. ![]() He couldn’t see beyond the scowl his wife expressed. Time consumed memory, leaving only a reflection of their faces behind his eyes. ![]() The past withered, faded, much like the photograph Benny held. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |