I dropped by to see if anyone was in the Pundy House tonight. The place is empty. The party has moved on. That's good. Faint echoes of laughter.
Have a few drinks on my own. Put on a Joan Baez cd; a few more drinks; a fatal exit into the past.
That woman has the voice of an angel. Everything I ever wanted in my youth is captured in that voice; everything unattainable; every dream I ever had; every sleepless night longing to be invited to that secret magical party. Such beautiful melancholy.
I have to smile. It hasn't been too bad when all is said and done.
Time to put the lights out. This house already has its ghosts. Beautiful ghosts. That's good. I love the place. When it echoes with laughter there's nowhere better. Next week we'll have a party.
Just like Gatsby. Everyone will come. We'll find whatever we are looking for. I guess.
Beautiful post.
ReplyDeleteJust blowing out the last candle.........
ReplyDeleteI just knew this would happen. No sooner do I track you all down and climb aboard the party train than it moves off for pastures anew.
ReplyDeleteDebi, hold on to your ticket. This is only a temporary halt.
ReplyDeleteOoh what a lovely post. Like being offered a luxury belgain chocolate.
ReplyDeleteElegaic.
ReplyDeleteNice! Where you get this guestbook? I want the same script.. Awesome content. thankyou.
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