Life must have been easier then, in Genesis, when all the world was new, no history to confound you, to separate you from the present, a God intervening to tell you right from wrong. I do not tell Emily my thoughts on this, because I do not wish to contradict her. But I know time itself is loss. Salt mixes with soil. Clouds reshape themselves.
Children pass, and pass, then pass away.
Our dreams wither around us. The seeds scatter in the wind. And, until we find the object of our heart's desire, we live for what we lack. Add a comment to the Expresso Tilt Guestbook or view the guestbook.