She gave me a kiss on the check before she leaned back with a sad smile. I placed my arms on the middle of her back. The mere touch of my hands on the...bare skin of her back brought thick tears to her eyes. She dropped her head to my shoulder and her body almost went limp. ‘It is so frustrating.’ My shoulder was getting wet from her tears. I picked her up enough to hold her in my arms and carried her down the stairs. The couch was free of any boxes, and I could vouch for how comfortable it was.. No, trip isn’t quite the right word. Journey, perhaps? No, that’s not it at all…too open ended, almost too noble sounding. Too many memories to make on a journey, too, and I wasn’t sire I liked the idea of making more memories. You run across too many unexamined corners in the darkness on that kind of journey, too many choices best left undisturbed. So not a trip, nor a journey. What the hell do you call running away from memory? From memories of a life cut short. Pain comes to mind. The pain. More

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