CarrollBlog 2.17

Old loves. They enter your thoughts unexpectedly, like a flash of summer lightning at night. They blast open a part of the sky pure phosphorescent white a moment, and then are gone. A memory is lit, or a few-- a meal together, an hour when nothing could be better than right now. The look in their eye that day you sat together by the river. Maybe if the memory is particularly strong, a shiver slides along your heart like an ice cube down your back. But then unless you are haunted or were ruined by this person, life goes back to a moment ago. You straighten up, take a long breath, and move forward. Maybe part of you looks once over your shoulder to see if, impossibly, they are there behind you again. But they never are.