I looked across the garden through the hanging vines and potted plants and I was sure I saw an eye. Maybe I should ave looked again or harder or more attentively. What is sure is I came to regret that I didn’t and continue to this day to regret. Maybe I could have changed what happened. Maybe I couldn’t, but I looking back, with everything I have, would give it all to change that one moment. but that is impossible, naive, stupid and finally a futile waste of time.
Still after all these years have passed, it remains the only thing. The only all-encompassing memory drawing me on and down like a black hole. However I try, unable to escape its pull. And turning my back still drawn to glance back knowing I cannot escape. Knowing there is no other path. Only the lancing of that which to me is no other than a festering boil. I need. I want. But I cannot. It will remain forever. A permanent and debilitating scar on my everything. That much i do know.
Today on the New Road looking up a paraphernalia of bands of blue of every shade through grey plus yellow ribbons with even a smattering of red. Then glancing down to the dark forbidding mountains in the distance a mixture of yellow and cream until deep in her nexus where one dipped then rose to another and covered in a deep foliage darkened in backlight to the intense but perfectly small halo of expectation of the brightest most intense lemon. Perfection. Perfection perfectly positioned in the inviting foliaged dip. An invite impossible to refuse.
At first there was one gleaming eye in the darkness, and then another and another. Everywhere and I knew they were coming for me. But I hadn’t done anything…. but no if I admitted it, I had done something and I knew why they were there, but I wasnt going to admit it.