6:55pm/July 21,2010/ Springfield, MA
A walk to the park, pregnant with the hopes of finding a loophole and a way back in time- a way back to a better us, only provides encounters with people I went to high school with- people we'd hated. And disappointment, when an old bohemian man passes slowly by leaning on his cane, nods at me politely, but does not offer the answers I am looking for. I think, "Come sit at this bench. Tell me about your life. Tell me how to be stronger, how to love harder, how to forgive more. Tell me how to fix this." But he smiles a toothy smile, his beige shirt unbuttoned to the fourth button down blows gently, and it begins to thunder. The bells from the church we went to as children offers a torturous reminder of bygones like slivers of bamboo shoved 'neath my fingernails. As the bells clang three times, it begins to pour and I walk home empty handed, empty hearted.