this isn't so great, but i wrote it so i guess i'll post it.


he had an unusual number of visitors that night. they came from his broken past. and from impossible futures. one after another. a polite parade of specters. they told him what he did wrong. they told him what he would do wrong. they told him stories of times long gone and times that will never manifest. they brought him gifts. they taught him that sometimes having hope is the worst thing he could possibly do. they talked to him of memories. they talked to him of choices. they talk to him of lies and half-truths and things left unsaid. they joked and rebuked. they reminisced and predicted. one by one they sat across from him. and one by one, in their own time, they ceded their position to the next visitor. one by one he listened and wished them well on their way. knowing that, soon enough, they would visit again. and he would receive them cordially. as ever.

posted by adam @ 12:28 AM