200514
Funny how I can look at the face of a child and understand his emotions. That expression on his face tells so much it is a wonder why his father is looking at the opposite direction; his mother unaware of those thoughts running through that illustrious mind.

"Why are we running after a bus that stops for us? Why are you rushing me? Can we slow down for a while?"

Somehow these are the things that speak to me.
Sometimes they are nothing but my own constructed conversations. Other times they are just shadows that catch up to mine, staying for a moment or two in one dark unison before leaving, each spirit touched by one and the other.

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