Fragments Gallery
Let Go of the Moon
"Let go of the moon fair one. Let go."
She mouthed the words to herself as she considered them. She tasted the words as they one by one crossed her tongue. She could still hear him as he spoke the words. She could still see him in her mind's eye. His hair was long and gray, yet well kept, His eyes a clear blue. The wrinkles smiling on his weathered face. Her Grandfather’s face. He had said that the last time that she saw him.
"What do you mean Grandpa?"
He had smiled at her, "Think about it for a while. I'll tell you when we next meet."
Those were his last words to her.
She had walked away, leaving him sitting alone in his arm chair. She remembered that her Grandfather’s house had seemed empty and desolate when she had looked back after getting into her parents car. It had been years since she had been there but she still remembered that final sight of the house. She remembered that she hadn't looked away until the car had gone around a corner and the old building had vanished from sight. Then it was gone.
Now so was he.
Shortly afterwards he had passed away. Ever since their last conversation had lingered in her thoughts. Would she ever have her answers?
"Let go."
What had he meant?
"Let go of the moon fair one. Let go."
Would she ever know what it meant to let go?