Of moments, memories, and dreams
Imagine, if you will, a trinket so simple, so common, as to be nothing more than an every day household object. Imagine, if you will, something as nondescript as a simple copper fitting, sitting on the bathroom sink.
Imagine that when you see it, you are reminded of a moment in your life where you dared to believe. A moment so pure in its sweetness and simplicity that every time you see that small object, your heart skips a beat and you feel a fluttering in your stomach.
Imagine, if you can, the moment in which that belief, that dream, is harshly stripped away from you, and the object that once brought you such joy can now bring you to your knees from the pain. When the seeing of it reminds you of the reality of the world, and the loss of something so precious that you find yourself reaching for it, wanting to throw it away, remove it from your sight.
Imagine being unable to do it, because the memory of that moment, that sweet simple moment, is still burning brightly somewhere behind the pain. It is still echoing through your heart, like a siren’s call behind the banshee’s wail.
Imagine.