I could get lost in my small hometown when it rains. A whirling dervish of directional confusion. How I made it out of the state, I’ll never know.
5
The Freighters
I’m on the roof of a house I’m working on, near Buena Vista park, where I find myself staring longingly at the ships fairly frequently.
Herder of Memories
These were people’s memories that I saw. Some were pleasant. Others not so much. People carried a lot in them, stories you’d never even imagine were real or possible. My father used to sometimes tell stories back in the village. He’d always say a good storyteller renews the story with each telling, weaving in memories and personal experiences to subtly change it and make it a new story.