Journal Entry: Echoes and Shadows
I go back and forth between describing these lives as echoes, or then shadows, of the fables they once were, or always were, or are again, are still. Talking about it is problematic. It’s far-fetched until you condense the life into 300 words, then the patterns emerge and become familiar, like an old friend you haven’t seen in 30 years passing you on the street or in an airport, their face at once both unrecognizable and undeniable. Do you stop them or let them keep walking? I’ve decided not only to stop them but to seek them out. There are more of them out there, I am certain.