My Story

Previously

…I watched him go, his silhouette growing smaller against the wide sky. He didn’t look back. And I didn’t call after him. I just stood there, under the tree that no longer held any marks, and let the wind carry the dust and the heat and the silence. That was the last time I saw Juokas for many years. But the words stayed with me, a ghost in my memory, waiting to be understood. And sometimes, late at night, when the house is quiet and the world feels thin, I can still hear his voice, humming that tune, and I know that the story is not finished. Something was undone to make way for this. And one day, I will find out what.