Secondhand Daylight

By Shotgun011

Original link: https://www.storiesspace.com/stories/romance-/secondhand-daylight.aspx

Tags: memoirs, musings, general, poetry, prose, recollection

Added: 17 Sep 2015 Views: 522 Avg Score: 5

Emerging onto yet another version of October street, passing through those faint mists of the oncoming night where shadows are, as I see a girl who has been gone for roughly a decade or more who now looks fresh from creation. And slowly remembering the obvious of it being a new century and this being someone I will never speak with, and finding myself giving a bow or nod of my head as a subtle show or sign of honour to the other from an earlier time as I pass by.

As I slowly take in and exhale a resigned breath that comes out like a sigh. Feeling like I am slightly lost in some sort of a backwash of some emotion(s) felt, and being very particularly aware of my own duration of the time I have in this world and this country, with the past being past and should be left to lie mouldering in those places it was laid to rest in. Leaving the future to lie ahead as something new and unformed with little to taint it, as I make my way past those ragged and swooping terraces that hang above me.

Moving quicker and turning my collar to the cold and damp and wishing I were elsewhere; rather than being out here feeling as if I were on some sort of a mission as I pass through those unkind shadows. That are able to leave a mark on all that they descend upon as if they are claiming those they touch, as I pass those whom fortune’s face turned away from that look as if they are crude sketches on the concrete. Now in their chosen stations like guards to the alcoves and alley entrances that they have claimed as their own. Finding myself now passing those heavy bronze doors of some bank or brokerage as I continue onward, with all being observed fully in the moment before it passes and is gone forever as the Tao has said it would. And being approached by one in who’s tired eyes can be read a combination of: Fear, tiredness, resignation, which seems tempered by an automatic form of blind hope to pull them through the bittersweet symphony of life. Able to reply to their approaches with my eyes that have a gaze that can punch through their intents like paper.

Listening and going where the day directs me as it unfolds and facing fears, as I now feel those shadows on me and wondering if they will leave their mark on me like those I passed by? Looking down as I close my eyes in a moment of contemplation and seeing those lines on my hands, wondering if I should believe what they tell me as I watch those finest silver threads slowly unwind there? I know that all I have is what I carry and fits in the web between my fingers.

As I continue onward into this turning of twilight with those sapphire skies full of dark holes, and feeling those scars that the sun’s dark light couldn’t or wouldn’t heal along with some new deepened wounds. Slowly passing through the evening’s tide of faces that pass unregistered and unrecognized through worn out places. As I find myself recalling a poem by Villon, about looking into one’s eyes and taking the full measure that is hidden there, and then be able to call them by what their true name is and if true as the Tao dictates then mine is: Might have been!

Still I continue on what might seem to most a fool’s errand with a mission like intensity, and finding a backwash of emotion striking again as I see that one that might be new to creation approach me. Knowing that it can’t be the one that she seems to have been modeled on yet the steel in her eyes is the same, along with the copper highlights that glint in the passing lights like a corona as she heads my way. Standing here wondering if it is truly her the one from ten years ago or is it a comeback I know nothing of? Feeling the steel that’s deeply imbedded in those blue eyes that carry a million mile reflection. That lock onto my eyes and hold me in this spot like those faded red ghosts of European time have done.

As the sound of the blues and laughter is heard faintly drifting from a place nearby like a backdrop to this moment, and things have always been this way and nothing can intrude from the outside when it feels like gravity snaps, causing me to wonder if this real as I meet her like this or is it like those skies full of miracles that are merely lies? But, I know the Devil’s in the details and I know what is meant by that as our eyes lock holding us here.

Standing here in this October Street with both of us having seen to much, and knowing that something in your eyes tells me that though it’s been years since we last met, and some things haven’t changed for we both know that this is no game and never has been. As she stares into my greenish eyes that can stare for a thousand years taking the measure that’s there, and has us both wondering if we should roll the dice again and see about a new start.

All that matters is here and now and the moment we stand here in under these ghostly lights, holding each other in place with our eyes feeling that decade slowly passing as we stand in the dark. And as those who remain unrecognized and unregistered part and seem to flow around us standing there, Finding myself able to see something in the depths of her eyes that tells me that this nightmare will soon end, with nothing more mattering other than the loss of a restless heart and a hope that a race has been won.

There used to be angels once that watched over all we did a decade ago, though at times now it seems like there have been nothing but devils knocking at the doors. Once the hold we have with our eyes breaks will you walk on leaving reflections behind like pictures on a wall? Finding that I can’t breathe and wonder if all might start again here and now as I feel just a touch of fear, and I have written everything down and attempted to leave it all as a story for those who truly care.

Wondering if she feels as I do like the time when we met in a side street against a wall? When that bad moon was rising and I had just seen those jesters from that dark courtyard in the North, as I sat there in the dark feeling and knowing something was going to happen when I left the theatre that night. It being like the moment now that the Tao has had us both arrive in to share this time once again as it has always, and knowing we have a lot to discuss and wondering if all the events will come out that we have gone through, with the past being like faded photographs that lie scattered like fallen leaves on the lawn.

The dawn is starting to break through those heavy grey clouds, and I know the sun’s dark light will be coming through and all will soon be seen clearly in the grey light. Needing to know if anything will be said soon and where all will go from here as volumes were said with our eyes, and I might not speak right when the time comes for palaver but I know of what I speak as do you, as we continue to look into each others tired eyes and see all that’s there.

Breaking the silence as I ask if you will come and walk with me to wherever the moment takes us, and seeing you extend your hand for me to take it and to direct you where the moment in time takes us. Heading off this version of October Street to where we can discuss all and lay all the cards on the table, as we slowly walking hand in hand to a place out of the cold and damp watery dark light and see if the foundation stands. And what can be done to try and establish all as it has always been as both Karma and the Tao has shown us.

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