Thursday, August 25, 2005
It suddenly occurred to me this afternoon that on that fateful day all I had to do was utter three simple words and everything would have been made perfect. Instead, a couple of heartbeats saw me destroy something with the ease of two moist fingertips pressed together on the lit wick of a candle. Something beautiful was snuffed out that day that can never be rekindled.
Posted by Don Quixote at 6:04 PM