Member-only story
I Do Not Understand
No Trains To Goneland
I do not understand.
Gone?
Gone?!
I understood to the other room.
I understood to the store.
Sure, to work, that was adjustable and understandable.
To another city.
Yes even that time to another country.
But to be nowhere-to-be-found
no such being anywhere—
no matter how carefully I look
no matter how much I need to tell or ask something
no matter how that lack of presence
lives on in every room
and around every corner.
This I do not understand.
I can understand for a few minutes.
I understood for a few days.
A few weeks seemed understandable under the circumstances.
And there was that difficult time—
three months
compensated with text and video calls.
But what is this thing—
they call forever.
Not ever.
Never again.
As long as I live.
Yet that voice recording, reading—seems everpresent.
And photo snap captured in time.
