Memories are funny.
They sit there, dormant.
Waiting.
Waiting for the moment to snap back
and ruin you.
They hide themselves
in little things around you.
The agate was small,
I had it on that shelf for
for months.
It blended right in,
til one day I held it again.
And I remembered everything
right
back
to
the
beginning.
That agate.
Every
single
thing.
Every day I saw it and thought
thought nothing.
Why now?
Why this agate?
Nothing else your hooves touched…
Why you?
Why me?
that agate…
waiting for the moment to snap back