All Those Vacant Glares


Flecked with indifference and, otherwise, a pain that can’t be covered by insurance, I gaped at my ancestors for a solid seven minutes without realizing that my vigil would be viewed by the world at large as a strange session of staring at nothing in particular. It wasn’t until I made it back home for the evening that I took all those vacant glares into account, and by that time I’d already forgotten why I reached out to my ancestors in the first place. Something to do with losing the family farm, I think.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s