Accoutrement And Denouement
I don’t know what I expected, maybe something to solidify the moment. Some sort of recognition of what had passed. But that’s what stories do. Our own wasn’t that stylized.
It was little more than a goodbye. And maybe a lack of recognition on all our parts for what was happening. They went home. And so did I, after returning them to their craft. No one came to see them off. No one came for me. No one waved goodbye.
They were too focused on all that for much in the way of a remark. But such is the case when you have greater concerns. Farewells can be a luxury. I realize that now. And it was more important they returned home.
It just left me, feeling empty. Good, but empty. I had helped. I knew I had done something right, so why should I have been thanked. Or praised. Or rewarded. Those are the cozy endings of fairytales. What I was left with was the cold autumn wind on a sunny summer day amidst the meadow.
In its way it was enough. It was appropriate. I was never going to get a clean goodbye from anyone, because life intrudes. For all of us. And we all have to keep going. So I went home.
Today’s art is courtesy of Stéphane Bourez from London, the United Kingdom.