A sadness crept up in the dead of moonless night. Shrouding his mind and spirit in a deathly mist. First, a blow from an innocuous whisper of conversation - hit home with a dull, knowing and final thud. The force of it a surprise, a shock even. Then later, the memory of a meeting of some minds. So close to something and yet a canyon apart from anything.…
© 2024 Gerry O'Neill
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