It was like a wet, asphalt, escalator spread out before him. As he walked down the gently sloped entryway, the rain followed in step. It echoed the footsteps he made on his way down from the street to the parking lot, just outside the warm townhouse they shared.
Rounding the corner at the bottom of the hill he noticed a moving truck and realized to himself that three years had passed and he had know idea who was moving out. He knew from the empty truck interior the movers were here to remove not to bring. There was a time and perhaps in some neighborhoods it still happens, crowds gather, watch, help, laugh, cry, shake hands and hug. Welcome. Good-bye!
He headed inside to write, to place a log by the fire and feed the cat. As he set the log on the hearth and tossed a few treats to the cat, he thought about that moving van, the neighbors and the places, the people he has seen come and go and have seen him come and go. Those simpler times for which he longs.
Every generation, in fact I would think every civilization and iteration of man has longed for when "things were good". When times were simpler. The good ol' days.
Simpler times are always recalled for their style and panache. Life was better. The sky was bluer and the birds all sang and people frolicked in the woods. No one went hungry and everyone worked at a job they enjoyed.
Any attempt to describe the feeling of longing for a simpler time would be trite and meaningless. You can't really describe what you have not been through or witnessed.
It's a longing for the familiar.
WAITING ON THAT RAINSTORM the prediction is or the forecast is 40%. Didn't do what they did and didn't live their life. Wasted time? Waiting for that big break. That moment. My time. Waiting? Wait no more. Take it. There is no time to waste.
Yet, look back on that style and for the most part, the greater portion of, the largest slice of the style pie was hideously horrid shlock. There are the classics for every era, t-shirt and jeans of the fifties, or the tux and tails of the 20's and then there are the oh holy hell moments. Look at some pictures from the 70's. I rest my case.
He longed for a simpler time himself.
Rounding the corner at the bottom of the hill he noticed a moving truck and realized to himself that three years had passed and he had know idea who was moving out. He knew from the empty truck interior the movers were here to remove not to bring. There was a time and perhaps in some neighborhoods it still happens, crowds gather, watch, help, laugh, cry, shake hands and hug. Welcome. Good-bye!
Every generation, in fact I would think every civilization and iteration of man has longed for when "things were good". When times were simpler. The good ol' days.
Simpler times are always recalled for their style and panache. Life was better. The sky was bluer and the birds all sang and people frolicked in the woods. No one went hungry and everyone worked at a job they enjoyed.
Any attempt to describe the feeling of longing for a simpler time would be trite and meaningless. You can't really describe what you have not been through or witnessed.
It's a longing for the familiar.
WAITING ON THAT RAINSTORM the prediction is or the forecast is 40%. Didn't do what they did and didn't live their life. Wasted time? Waiting for that big break. That moment. My time. Waiting? Wait no more. Take it. There is no time to waste.
Yet, look back on that style and for the most part, the greater portion of, the largest slice of the style pie was hideously horrid shlock. There are the classics for every era, t-shirt and jeans of the fifties, or the tux and tails of the 20's and then there are the oh holy hell moments. Look at some pictures from the 70's. I rest my case.
He longed for a simpler time himself.
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