Serial – One: I’m Sorry
I say “I’m sorry” almost every time I stop long enough to take it all in. A breath held deep, and released slow. A long pull and swallow of a cold, bitter beer. A glance that lingers in the wrong direction. Every one an unfortunate reminder of a broken something that can never be set right, like a bone to be mended. Only to be lived with, limped on. The pain, dull and almost forgotten, a reminder.
© Copyright 2015 Bill Friday