Unsere SerdtseHe folds the paper gently across harshly creased lines and lays it back across his chest. The room is chilled, the air system holding at 64 degrees, but he is sprawled across the bed in his running shorts. He radiates heat, a warm atmosphere that she loved enveloping the area around him. He grunts uncomfortably at the memory and edgily rubs his fingers across the note. She had handed it to him as he climbed into the truck that last time and drove away. He knew from the distance that she had kept the whole visit that she had poured her heart out into it.They’d be separated for 3 years now.He rolled over, cradling the note to his chest as moisture began to cling to the corner of his eyes. Why hadn’t he told her more? What could he have changed.....? Why had he been such a fool?He hadn’t seen it back in high school. He knew that she loved him of course; any fool with eyes would have seen that. As rough as he had been, as rude and exacting as he often acted, she was al
Free WillWhere is this thing called "free choice"?Have I willed it away unthinkingly?Was it stolen in a brash harassment?Or was it really ever there?The path before me, was once chosenBy myself.Criss-crossed by ideas andOther's lives.Angled inwards, my eyesThey do not see control.Angled towards my eldersWe find the reins.No soft guidance, just the ironHands of a cross ruler.Free choice?A long forgotten memoryThat never existed.