Inspired by mood of the song...
Jul. 2nd, 2004 11:22 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
robinblokeThe hand opens. The crushed letter uncurls slowly, crinkles and chaos obfuscating the writing on it.
The hand turns. The letter falls down amoungst all the other discarded dreams, thoughts, poems and letters.
Lost. They've all been thrown away, but not forgotten. The memory aches in the back of the mind like an unreachable scratch that nags and nags. Memories only fade with time. Memories can be healed or changed, but some of them never fade.
Some look to change history, but in the end it's all that is remembered that is passed on.
The hand moved sideways, the heavy, cold weight of the metal was almost reassuring as it lifted it up.
Power and assurance. Confidence and finality. There was a quiet click, step one. The second step took more effort, there was a long pause.
The hand pulled the trigger.
The hand turns. The letter falls down amoungst all the other discarded dreams, thoughts, poems and letters.
Lost. They've all been thrown away, but not forgotten. The memory aches in the back of the mind like an unreachable scratch that nags and nags. Memories only fade with time. Memories can be healed or changed, but some of them never fade.
Some look to change history, but in the end it's all that is remembered that is passed on.
The hand moved sideways, the heavy, cold weight of the metal was almost reassuring as it lifted it up.
Power and assurance. Confidence and finality. There was a quiet click, step one. The second step took more effort, there was a long pause.
The hand pulled the trigger.
