28 October 2010


"Life is a curious thing," he pointed out in his usual semi-comical tone as we crossed a sleeping College Green to send him on his way again. Five years ago, the question, unasked, had been like a cigarette butt put out on my heart; now, it was a source of amusement, with just a touch of pensiveness. The answer was like chocolate-coated irony. Going through the gates without my guest, I was a mixture of smiles and damn-its. Stories are self-perpetuating -- they run on the dissatisfaction they leave behind. Perhaps this is why we never change, and why I'm not done with this story.

No comments:

Post a Comment