Left Behind

it happens over and over again, associations broken once more.

it happened last week again, one of my close colleagues left for another job. he and i happen to be the only one who know the history and influence of a campaign. his cubicle next to me is now vacant and void of his presence. i hope there will be a time again in my life, that would be so rich in narratives, bizarre concepts and discussions around the feeling of not knowing oneself and a sincere effort in breaking the mold. the triggers to activate forgotten stories and artifacts and strategies that have worked and failed are all partially lost.

i left college and after a year i visited the campus again, the feeling of being an outsider overwhelmed me. i could actually see my friends faces from the past at the familiar corners, around the corridors, and in the common bathroom mirrors, but none are there and will never be.

she visited us, in the hospital where my son was born. it happened to be the same hospital where her husband was treated during his last days. she asked me to take her to the same ward, she never left the hospital during his last week. All she saw there was just the after image and the void left behind…


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