The Fraying Edges of the World

Posted: November 26, 2012 in Uncategorized

In earlier days, the days of the father of my father’s father’s father, moving to the shores meant a life of solitude. Farewells were tearful not because of the implication that we might not see each other again, but because of the reality that not a word by post or messenger would pass between us once again. Now there are people arriving in gates and by boat almost hourly, filling their lungs with the air of my city, patting me on the shoulder and telling me of the wonderful place I call home. I once knew the name and face of everyone who lived inside of our township, even most of the merchants who came and went from our walls to the neighboring burgs.

Everyone is familiar now, a finger’s touch away, and yet they are all now suddenly strangers to me. Even people I once knew as open and caring have closed themselves away, unsure of how to deal with the constant influx of new blood into the veins of our city as well as the continuing flush of those who have overstayed their welcome and move on to their next destination casually, and without thought or care. But I remember what it was like to have to leave things behind for good.

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