Forgotten.

It is a word of sorrow, of lost things. Memories, people, ideas, thoughts – to be forgotten is to disappear.

We search through the forgotten, trying to piece together the past. But the flickers of light that made it real have long since faded, and all we are left with are the shadows of moments, separated from us by distance and time.

Yet each moment, each event, each life lived has left their mark upon this world. Faint impressions like the brush of butterfly wings, or distant smoke, making you wonder if they were ever there at all.

And to remember, even for a moment, is to bring them back.

———————————————————————————————This is my response to today’s writing prompt, part of the 30 Day Writing Challenge.

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