When a door closes God opens a window, but how to use that escape route when the open door is all I can think about?
A pillar of salt trying to take back that last glance and salvage any grain of memory that seems to be slipping through the hour glass. Slipping through the open door out and into the night...
The memories flood like thousands of stars illuminating the path to an inevitable closed door.
I fumble for my keys in my pocket, unlock the gate, stumble up the stairs and carry myself alone to a dark room...
closing the window that's letting the cold in.
-from the desk of S.C. Browne
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