Monday, February 09, 2009

A Rare Old Cheese

The snow was thin in the park. The wind whipped through, exposing gray bundles of grass and old concrete walkways. _____ walked between the pillars of the park entrance and into a frozen over memory.

For an instant she saw the sun, felt summer on her skin, heard children squealing to each other on the playground equipment, bright colors in the daylight. Then it collapsed back under the cold of winter nights. The children's voices were silent, and the swing sets and slides crumbled into piles of rust and faded plastic covered with drifts of snow.

She sighed, and that too froze as it left her lips and was torn away by the wind.


But not rare enough for some, I wager.

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