29 April 2016

You can't hang on to anything in the end.

Celia told me the story again. She says she's told me many times, since it happened.

I'm typing as fast as I can, to get it down before it fades.

One day, the last day we walked together, Celia stumbled off the trail, and landed in a green place. Tall strangers fed her herbs, and gave her sweet water. They told her she was theirs.

I don't remember that. I remember pulling her out of the mud, where she had fallen. A simple act.


According to Celia, it was a promise. 

1 comment:

Linette Allen said...

Brilliant. Love this!

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