The Frozen River

by Ariel Lawhon

Memory is a wicked thing that warps and twists. But paper and ink receive the truth without emotion, and they read it back without partiality.

I like to think that we have contributed something to the wider world.

But, I remind myself, that is the happy ending to a story like ours. It is a vow made and kept. Till death do us part. It is the only acceptable outcome to a long and happy marriage, and I am determined not to fear that day, whenever it arrives. I am equally determined to soak up all the days between.

“It rains upon the just and the unjust, love. And we no more deserve this than our friends or neighbors do.”

Though you never think it possible, you can celebrate and grieve in the same breath.

Every story moves like a river, from source to mouth, so let this one flow,

I collect people.