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Blue Orange Green Pink Purple

Epiphany

There are stories, spoken
and tales which are oft told.
But there are, too
memories; which live
to be forgotten.


There is no category for this; but the last
in time.

Realization


He had seldom found as much of the comrade-in-arms in the next man from him than when he found himself standing against the wall, shoulders almost brushing the two males abreast of him, as the soft tinkling of water, audible almost as to make him self-conscious, indeed, in the public urinal.
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This is a Story
without a Protagonist
save Human Error.

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