It does not escape me

that most of what I read now seems empty. Empty by those under the age of forty because they are just kids, empty under the age of fifty because they still don’t know — we know nothing at all until the end, and at that point we know everything. The trees shimmer in the fields, the sky remains blue eyed blue, the ocean waters swell and sigh, saying darling we told you so.

About louisewleonard

Author of 52 Men, Since You Ask, and others Also in The Rumpus, Tin House, Fiction Advocate, Gargoyle.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.