Very Small Epilogues

--There's something so familiar with how things go and how I never want to stop them from happening. It's a constant state of 'oops' and 'awws', the same darn street and the same darn hole in the ground, yet I willingly fall into it most every time. Part of me likes the dark, warm comfort, while the other is shrieking (or sleeping), telling me to turn on my heels and run. I know it's not good for me to fall into a deep dark pit (for it really takes forever to get out of), but it draws me in with the mysterious clamoring of adventure, of comfort, or promising things it does not intend to hand over. The real questions are these: when will I learn to stop falling into the hole? When will I learn to avoid the street? Will I ever learn to stop thinking about it? Who knows...

--He wore my Daddy's pin...