Burning, Interlude

The heart wailed like a weeping child while his face was dry as dust. He set his nose inside a book, but he could not read. Burning, burning grief and regret that sears the heart was doused with ice to quell the burning logic of quit being shy and just say hello, nice to see you.

Through past rejections he had grown accustomed to no.
Too many times they said no, until when the one who finally said yes he heard it not.

When opportunity knocked, he did not answer it. He hardened his heart toward hope of marriage, only helping to raise and mentor the children of others. I will not give my parents the grand child they hoped would bring completion.

Because he knew he could not support her. He knew he couldn’t care for the child that was her world. Though empathy was in his heart toward her plight, he chose not to speak to her.

From “The laments of the paper towel man”

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Author: pathweaver34

My name is Isaac Craft. I've got a bachelors in Mass Communications, an Associates in Graphic Design, and I'm an aspiring novelist.

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