A few days ago I went to the History Museum. What this small town calls a museum anyway, it's more a collection of antiques. I sometimes find such places to be more interesting they smell of time; dusty and stale. Experts suggest that our olfactory sense is the best way to access memory I find this to be true only I would add that it isn't only the past that we gain access to. In these dusty places I feel the tug of all the possible futures that never came to gestation, all the hopes, the unrequited loves all neatly tucked away between the pages of our stories. It also reminds me of the sequence of events that brought me to where I am today and of the people that were once in my life. Those that meant the world to me and now are ghosts, memories that haunt me there every word still ringing in my ears. I don't know much about the physics of time, though I suspect that it doesn't run linearly. Unfortunately I must move forward that is my only choice, for once the tea cup shatters it's pieces will never come back together again.
Photo is by Frank McKenna I got it off of Unsplash.com which is nothing but CCO images excellent place for reference photos
