Playlist/Bingo: Unloved

I thought, when I got into this, that I’d be telling the stories of those more lost than myself. It never seemed like a big thing, certainly not “of utmost importance” as my father would put it. Just an honest thing. After so many years racking muck for the sake of a byline and a paycheck, that seemed like enough.

Every face has a story, but every city has its secrets. The second is often connected to the first. We may not think, in our ever connected and thoroughly documented world, that there is anything left in the shadows, but if that were true, no one would ever disappear into them. All mysteries would be solved and all families able to mourn.

I thought to be a part of that growing light. Shine it into the corners I was surprised to find still there, after so many years believing they couldn’t exist and ignoring the evidence that they did. I couldn’t know what there was to disturb, or how much peering into them had cost those who came before me. It was supposed to be something good, a public service, noble even. Presumptuous.

Now that such delusions have been crushed like dirt into swollen pavement, I’m left with a decision. I know where this path leads; I’ve been walking in the steps of those who came before me for months, and I have knelt where they fell. Do I have the strength to go beyond them? To finish what we’ve started.

I have to believe I have. I have to believe there will never be reason for anyone to follow in mine.



by | Oct 10, 2013

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