Quote, Christmas Season

“He would never forget this particular twilight. Years later, looking back across all their voyages together, this walk along Penn Boulevard would become his fondest memory. He would wake from a deep sleep in the dead of night and remember Philadelphia, Christmas, and the snow. He would hear the far-off carols playing their evensong and taste the winter air they breathed and feel the frozen grief of the solitude that divided them. That was the year I gave her a pear, he would tell the darkness.”

-Marc Behm, The Eye of the Beholder

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Adventures At The Thrift Shop

I traipsed through thrift shops picking up random items today. Some days are like that. Oddments find their way into my hands. I’m not one given to coincidence yet there seems a flow to things I can’t escape. I found a jar for mead and haunted old books looking for the rare and unusual before I found a hardbound cover of something French and gothic. I think the pages are held together with angst, which is probably more substantive than what’s holding most books together these days. A dove cote. A notebook adorned with the images of clocks and timepieces. Time, of course; I can’t escape the feeling it runs out.

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