I had tried for years to write our story.
Sometimes it was just a case of finding words that fit the
unlikely circumstances and events to be told.
Other times it was finding any order or flow to sensibly relating
the rocky tale.
Missing chunks and pieces, turned into unfinished pages,
Unfinished pages mounted into disarranged half written chapters strewn across the writing table where they still reside.
Perhaps premature partings result in stories with holes in them.
© DiAnne Ebejer
(image paper artist – Su Blackwell)