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But I do believe in the power memory holds over us; I believe in ghosts as remnants of powerful emotions we have experienced. Over the years, I’ve learned that—for the most part—our ghosts stay silent. But there are times when our busy world quiets just enough for the ghosts to emerge.
Memory can turn us into little kids again, fearful of shadows and dark corners.
Erasmus is a stranger, someone I work with. Layla is someone I love, and love transforms perception, though not always for the better.
When you die, the meaning of time is lost. Time is an ocean washing over me.
