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patterns of ink

How fruitless to be ever thinking yet never embrace a thought... to have the power to believe and believe it's all for naught. I, too, have reckoned time and truth (content to wonder if not think) in metaphors and meaning and endless patterns of ink. Perhaps a few may find their way to the world where others live, sharing not just thoughts I've gathered but those I wish to give. Tom Kapanka

Sunday, February 24, 2008

The above post is an abridged version of the story printed for the guests at my mom's funeral. It was suggested by a friend that I submit it in a narrative contest that tells a story in an interesting way in less than 2000 words. The original posts are in the February archives as separate chapters. © Copyright 2008, TK, Patterns of Ink

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