The Man Made of Smoke

by Alex North

We can never know the importance of our actions, however small and innocent they might seem. An interaction that, for us, is gone in a heartbeat might be something that another person finds impossible to forget.

We are shaped by our pasts, not defined by them. It was important to remember that.

Maybe that happens to all of us in time, I’d thought. We slow down a little. We loosen our knots. We learn to find pleasure in the smaller, softer moments.

People can hide things away from you in the spaces between seconds, never mind weeks and months.