Broken

a broken 

Fix it or leave it? 

Everything has it’s story.  Might be it is meaningless to others.  But it’s my story. 

This platinum necklace means so much to me. 

I have never think of it would be broken. 

Luckily, I grabbed it before it fell on a busy street at night. 

Was thinking to fix it……………..

But I feel it would break again.  It will never be the same. 

So I just keep the ring.

 

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7 thoughts on “Broken

  1. alll caughts up… thank goodness you weren’t feeling loquacious. 😉  I read the above and think….maternal granparents’ attic.  I glimb up the are they blue or are they grey stair sixteen….threading my way t’ween the cusses of yet anotherone to be fixed.  I turn the gorner now onto subfloor plywood 15 year’s faded…always catching my eye on something and once my toe..blam!…the stacks now grow higher, an old typewriter, a ww2 rifle, thee hippest gear for the angler…circa 15 years ago, about 150 more books i swore i saw in the news of that day…deja vu! we are now to the cindderblock chimney – beyond which is the lair… layers of disused camping equipment…in this case sleeping bags…snuggly warm…tv trays…circa dawn of television, ooo! a box of cop gear…..um, FY!  you too will feel a complete blankity boob if youspray the box with pepper spray and then have yourself a sniff and then a long cry about how stupid that just was…. the thin blanket nailed to the wal showere more storage is….I found prizes over time of a b-17 flying fortress model i over painted, a car one i never could master,coins I just as quickly lost… boxes on boxes of tapes from when recording stuff was the RAGE…um, why is it just my luck to pick the one and only scarring tape where in mixed company grandpa and grandma! were discussing felatio?…     …christmas lights, yeah… that robin cook book Coma…ahhhh  well some scarring/frightening things were worth knowing and investigating further..hey i got bored too…some information prooved usefull like the ninety one find of the 87 will which made 2002 explainable….and reading the mentions I got by granddad in his work circular….  the memories of hoping  mmmm would come up those stirs…delish… or tink plat!  all night long is it raining…nope it’s a lady bug infestation!…YUCK…my first explorations into music my parents just i swear last week would have BANNED…  yes.  everything has it’s story…so the later rubbish bins said. sixty years of what now isn’t worth fixing and unsalable mostly… some folks keep the stories.. sometimes its sad..too sad to want to lose them later on.

  2. @starmanjones – thanks for sharing some valuable memories. Memories are with you forever. In your heart, in your soul. You don’t need anything physically present. You know those you miss most are seldom around. And if you decide to let something go, it will go no matter it exists or not 🙂

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