From 08dcdb5152c8e80c84900ee2e5e4e22695af6f70 Mon Sep 17 00:00:00 2001 From: Zac Herd Date: Wed, 27 Feb 2019 09:06:54 +0000 Subject: [PATCH] initial commit, index and 2019-02-26 entry --- 20190226.html | 15 +++++++++++++++ index.html | 12 ++++++++++++ 2 files changed, 27 insertions(+) create mode 100644 20190226.html create mode 100644 index.html diff --git a/20190226.html b/20190226.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e546311 --- /dev/null +++ b/20190226.html @@ -0,0 +1,15 @@ + + + + this is a story + + + +
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63 Reabrook Ln.

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A whisper, and it was gone before I knew it had arrived. None of the dust disturbed on decade old photo frames. Once frozen nostalgia on-demand, replacements for our own memories. None of your ornaments re-arranged - I was never allowed to so much as suggest alterations - everything in its place on shelves suggesting exotic expeditions where we haggle with locals at market stalls, gladly accepting our foreign money; the right time and the right place, just what we needed; seaside towns and their endless provision of authentic antique stores, each as well established as the last to close its doors. None of our important papers, stuffed away in obscure drawers rarely opened, even so much as noticed. Life stories told in bank statements, payslips, pensions, letters from the solicitor, passports, and Christmas cards from names I don't remember... I don't remember you. I know you like a doctor might know his patient, or a teacher his student, or a murderer his victim. You are a name on legal documents; a caricature from memories conjured by statues and paintings; a face in blurry photographs that I've studied long hours into lonely nights, waiting for fleeting sensations that I can never quite grasp onto.

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(C) Zac Herd 2019. CC BY-SA

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back

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2019-02-26 | 63 Reabrook Ln.

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