There are times when I’m at work and in my element, digging out cracks in horsehair plaster and vacuuming up the debris, filling holes and gouges and cracks with new, fresh plaster, moving through an empty house with the ghosts of old residents, and disturbing the silence with scrapes and drills, times that I forget where I am. Thinking of the drive from work, the downtown snow banks that get my wheels spinning, the short trip to my apartment. Times that Troy is Salem, but I can’t smell the ocean and I can’t find familiar faces.
I’m grateful to be working. Glad I have tried getting settled in a new town to make new memories because the old memories are too loud. Having a perfectly lonely winter and hoping the Spring opens my heart right up.
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