It was night and it was winter, but I wanted to see the place, our place, once again.
So, alone, I followed the long road, lined with so many memories of you, of us, of time past, of dreams lost.
I found the old house, the air was frosty, there was no sound as I open the door, no ghost to welcome me.
I looked up, and through the mists of time I tried to see you, as you came down those stairs, a last time, so beautiful you were, and how close the war was to us then…
But I only see the ruins, the faded colours, and the faded halo of the gas light: there are replacing the street lamps in Berlin.
How incredibly poignant this tale was. Sad, time changing things. Well done.
LikeLike
Things are definitely chaning, And the more they change the more they remain the same in our memories and in our hearts. We are always longing to return to those days, but return the moment reality raises its head.
Well done. Though provoking
LikeLike
Honoré, your evocative writing never fails to reach an emotional truth. This is sad and beautiful and haunting and real.
LikeLike
So poignant and haunting, cherish those memories despite how much pain they cause.
LikeLike
A very expressive, melancholy piece. Well written.
LikeLike
Touching and poignant, lovely atmosphere created by specific words of longing.
LikeLike
Great photo….
LikeLike