a memoir//

wen i saw the bundle he held in his hand, it looked so much like the shrouded moth.i knew i'd come upon the sign at last.i took the bundle and bowed low to thank him and tried to tell him how grateful i was---though im sure my words carried none of the fullness of my feelings. i wasn't thanking him for the coin, or even for the trouble he'd taken in stopping to help me.i was thanking him for...well, for something im not sure i can explain even now. for showing me that something besides cruelty could be found in the world, i suppose. i watched him walk away with sickness in my heart---though it was a pleasing kind of sickness, if such a thing exists. i mean to say that if you have experienced an evening more exciting than any in your life, you're sad to see it end; and yet you still feel gratefull that it happend. in that brief encounter with him, i had changed from a lost girl facing a lifetime of emptiness to a girl with purpose in her life. perhaps it seem odd that a casual meeting on the street could have brought about such change. but sometimes life is like that isn't it? and i really do think if you'd been there to see what i saw and feel what i felt, the same might have happened to you...

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