Flashed images

It's weird how images were there before and I had been in a room where the air hung low. Bingo was being played in my grandmother's hospice care but I knew she wasn't there.

Then the flashes of pictures that showed things that could never have been placed together. Yet there they were. And I was center stage between two people who loved each other.

Not sure if I was the barrier keeping them safe or the intrusion killing their trust. Either way it was not a comfortable place.

Yet some sort of satisfaction was there. Not in the sense of tearing apart but the significance, importance of my role inside their minds.

Yet still I didn't want to be there.

Those eerie moments in which a role played over and over still makes no sense whatsoever. And all I can do is shake it off of me.

Those odd flashes in the day. And most of it happened in my way home from work. To pull over means greatness. I usually have to sit still for a little bit. Though it was a good thing I was close to home.

And slowing down my steps. Just still letting the hot air throw stones at my lungs. At last inside.

Finding comfort in being distracted.

Only question is why Bingo? My grandmother played religiously. Everyday. And I laugh.

Anyhow it's over. Life is settling in to the sweet aroma of bratwurst and sour kraut. Finishing off with steak fries and sour dough hoagies. A great evening. Just in time for the start of Grantchester.