jody9
sometime before midnight
I never meant to be gone for so long, but things have a habit of not turning out the way I expect them to, which is the only thing I’ve been able to count on for sure. And here I am across the street from the old house, ten years later than I ever thought I’d be. I don’t know what time it is, and it doesn’t matter, not really, because I’m pretty sure it’s still sometime before midnight so it’s not tomorrow yet. And what’s that they say? Tomorrow is another day? Do they say that, or is it just Scarlett O’Hara? No point in thinking about that now. The lights are all off inside and that means they’re in bed. Last time I was home, Mom’s hair had just started to turn gray, and I wonder if it’s gone all the way now. I wonder if Dad ever quit smoking. I wonder a lot of things, and maybe they do too. I wonder if they ever tried to find me, and I wonder if it would all be okay if I just said I’m sorry about everything. Can’t ask now, not when the lights are off and they’re in bed. And what’s that they say? You can’t go home again? I know it’s true. I know it. But maybe if I just move along tonight, I can try anyway tomorrow. Yeah, maybe when it’s another day. Maybe.
Blog photograph copyrighted to the photographer and used with permission by utata.org. All photographs used on utata.org are stored on flickr.com and are obtained via the flickr API. Text is copyrighted to the author, jamelah and is used with permission by utata.org. Please see Show and Share Your Work
