Tuesday

Pale Green Things




In 100 years we'll all be ghosts. We'll sit in front of TV screens, close as we want to get. We'll never flip channels. We won't fight over the remote control. We'll look at the screen, and we'll look at each other, and wish we could communicate on a level that allowed for misinterpretation. We'll be weary of the ecstatic heavenly journey and wonder how long we've been here together, how much longer it'll be before embrace is an option and a choice we'll make. The four corners of the earth won't be so distant as us from each other. We'll wish we could cry for ourselves, and remember when being alive meant wishing we could cry for each other. And what a gift that was. Do you remember? I do. And the TV keeps flickering. It doesn't hurt our eyes anymore, and no matter how long we stare at it, our eyes won't dry up and then tear when we blink. But we'll try.