The Passing Storm

by Christine Nolfi

A startling discovery: it was easier to hate the idea of a person than the genuine article.

We breathe life into our memories by celebrating those loved ones in conversation.

We are each many people in a lifetime. We slip through versions of ourselves, no more staying in place than a fast-moving river.

How did one compose an apology that was years overdue? It seemed an impossible task.

“We’re all children of light and darkness,” she said. “It’s up to us to choose which side wins out.”

“I’ve been through some hard times. They either tear you up, or compel you to find a deeper meaning.”