Each day I get a little closer to the truth.
Every day I’m on a morning Dunedin bus that follows the same footsteps, it idles past the funeral directors where they buried my dad & grandfather.
Another building in my hometown has been demolished, memories that I’ve grown in my head during my time here start to fade. What was on this spot?…right here — the rubble dulls my memory.
I can’t remember.
Empty Main Street shops stare back at me reminding me to clean my windows and to constantly repaint my life…hoping to reverse the fact that everything is burning up.
We all do our bit to slow time.
With every generation there is a fresh line of meat ready to do the dirty work, repaint walls and demolish old buildings. progress always wins.
So — I gather as much of it as I can before it’s gone forever. Drink it in, like it’s my first and last meal.
Hell! What was it like while I was here? In my time?
Can you remember what it was like before you came?
