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Separation

Separation changes two people – two sisters, a parent and child, friends, strangers, enemies.

What happened to the two sisters whose bitter love and hate for each other was torn apart, ripped across the seam, their ragged clothes thrown across opposing sides of the room? Their scraps were made into other things, formed into strangers with new lives of their own. Their blood watered down into a weak wine that wouldn’t age well, not while they festered in the same musty cellar.

What happened to the father and child who clung to each other for hope and love until the Reaper swung his scythe and sliced the bond in two? The child who was forced to remember what had been taken from her forever while the father would never recall anything at all. The permanent separation bittersweet and painful for the one who was left behind.

What happened to the two friends who grew so close for many years, knowing each other’s secrets as if they were their own, and then moved apart, distanced by miles, relationships, family, life? Their knitted bond unraveling at the seams, two threads drifting apart until one is caught in the wind and blown away. Every once in a while, a call or an email to say hello, until those lines of communication run dry, disconnect, disappear.

What happened to the strangers who had never met at all, only to find they were intertwined all along when separation split a crack in their lives? Separation as they were briefly interconnected, passing one another on the street, standing in a line at the store, or sitting in the same restaurant, before moving on – forward, backward, sideways – never speaking a word beyond a curt “hello” or “excuse me.” To what extent would the separation impact them unless one or the other is struck by a car, collapses on the floor, or chokes on a piece of dry bread – momentarily bringing them together if the other rushes to help or turns to acknowledge the incident, capturing the fleeting time in an imprint to be remembered years from now as that day when – when what? When the passerby died? Lived? Survived?

What happened to the sour enemies who heaved their grudges atop their staunch shoulders, stubbornly carrying them wherever they walked in life, despising the other for her path, his career, or her power. Breathing angry fire at one another for all of their lives, thriving off the black heart which consumes the happiness they lack to feel when one crosses the other’s mind. Their only moment of reconciliation converged at the time of death, when all the bitter resentments on which one has survived have suddenly lost their target for hatred, and without that gripping ire, do they themselves have the strength of carry on?

How has separation changed you?

– Written on March 2, 2012

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About 365 Things to Write About

I'm inspired by almost anything and everything creative - nature, architecture, art, words, music...I like to roam along streets, through foreign countries, and within my mind where the world is full of endless possibilities. I dream of being an idealist, but I've experienced too many harsh realities for that wish to ever be true. Therefore, I look for the hope and the good in small nuances, and I express my thoughts and feelings about the world around me on pages and canvases whenever I can.

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