fragments fall to the floor, forgotten.
it has been
a week, two weeks, seventeen days, a month, 9 weeks, a third of the year, three seasons, 364 days, 2 birthdays, a school year and a semester, the rest of high school, half a decade, 3 weeks short of seven years.
seven
years
with the latest (insignificant) days spent hoping that the crumbs tumbling away were the dryness, coarse impurities, leaving the essence to glow ever more brightly, showing the soul of the example that she tried so hard to learn from, having only memory to go on
because if anything else were the truth, those tumbling fragments were invaluable gems, slipping away into irretrievability to join forgotten crumbs and lost moments in the abyss, joining contents known only to the All-Knowing.
that could never be an acceptable reality, because there is no example to be found in the melting interior of a personal-sized dessert, gourmet or otherwise
increasingly experienced fingers must gently dust away the imperfections from the surface to look inside and find the pieces of perfection that will begin to shine brighter unimpeded, and prove to be instructional beyond any lectures or literature
ultimately because no method of teaching inspires true motivation as does an example as brilliant as this one, so she retains the faith that childhood memories are not as fabricated as the hyper-rationalists try to convince her
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ourdoubtsaretraitors posted this
