Black Holes and Brown Paper Moons: Prosery

Winslow Homer, Moonlight, Wood Island

History, I think, is light trapped in a black hole. It is a moon wrapped in brown paper. Perhaps our love was also like that; something I did not see clearly then. Though how could I, or anyone, see beyond the occupation? Peace was a mirage, as was feeling comfortable. Still, we chased it. We were hiking an unmarked trail with hidden turns, pursued by beasts more horrible than any found in a fairy tale because they were human. And were you one of them? You were a shapeshifter with many names. Oh, I was a shapeshifter, too–perhaps we all were. I tell myself at night that I was working for good.

What do you tell yourself, Paul?

They said you’re dead, but I sense you out there. In my haunted dreams, I feel your presence—somewhere. Watch for me. I’m coming.

A continuation of my non-linear spy series for dVerse, Prosery using the line: “It is a moon wrapped in brown paper” from Carol Ann Duffy’s poem, Valentine.

75 thoughts on “Black Holes and Brown Paper Moons: Prosery

  1. A stunning piece, that starts with wonderful, deep pjilosophy that slowly starts to haunt, with deeper mystery…..I will have to look at this story, but it survives so powerfully on its own merits..

  2. I enjoyed looking more into the character’s thought process here. The part about who did what during the occupation reminds me of an excellent movie I saw not long ago, called, “The Last Vermeer.” I bet you would like that movie.

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