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Sunday, December 13, 2015

Light Cone

When the distance displayed on the taxi's fare-meter changes from .00 to .01, you know you are off, yet again. For an instant, you wonder how quickly your heart switches from homesickness to wanderlust and back again, but that feeling is soon overwhelmed by your love for the dynamic, the ever-changing.
Out of sight does not mean out of mind, but it sure helps -- and you are not sure that it is a good thing. Distance, like peat, absorbs the dead fronds of painful familiarity, but from time to time it drags in healthy tissue: alive and kicking and writhing in denial, the sweetest of your memories begin to take an effort to recall. You comfort yourself saying that you will be back, but immediately after, you ask yourself: where? Not when, but where -- and you don't know; because at either end of your journey lies home.

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