Cletha D

It's pink here in Morocco.

You always said you wanted to travel.



But I doubt that. I don't think you ever thought about it.

I forgot you said it. But there it is, and my memory and true, in both for once, and undeniable clarity even though the tape is scratchy.

We recorded it, and I forgot it, until it was time to downsize.

Somebody yesterday told me, that they like to throw things away. And I couldn't understand it, but I saw the emotion in her eyes, and I believed her, and thought to emulate that.

But deeper, an older than yesterday, I believe that I might need it someday. And the belief that it might be useful, and the belief that things are more important than time. And the belief that things are more important than people.

I didn't understand that people felt that way in, until I saw someone refuse to visit the person and obsess over her collection of bunnies after her death.

I don't even like bunnies. They taste like old chicken. But then, everything tastes like chicken.