[Original] Another Board

Maybe it's symbolism. Maybe it means nothing more than words on a page. Ink stains.

Years later and she's still not sure. He still writes with words upon words, and she smiles as she listens. Their epics make fodder for students to learn what real complexity is like. In your dreams.

In dreams she has her world and he has his nightmares and somewhere in the loops of imagination they cross over. Eyes open in the middle of the night, wondering. Are you safe? Are you well? I will remember you. Will you remember me?

Little stories. Little rhymes.

This won't last much longer.

It's simple, boils down nicely to a slow simmer that'll last for years. Tastes of whiskey and cinnamon and brown sugar on baked beans on toast.

A hand on a shoulder covered by a hand on a hand and fingers laced together. It's not over yet.