Who am I kidding, to think it could be resolved by expending my time. It still could be, but it couldn’t be measured in a mere few months. Like a really deep footprint into the sand, it takes a couple of waves to erode the prints. Sometimes, you can get information just by observing facial expressions of people. Some walk around as if they were expecting something, and somehow along the way they got lost. Maybe it is just an assumption on my part, but that forlorn face nudges me sometimes. It reeks of barren hearts, once fertile with footprints.
Forging impressions, then casting and crumbling memories. I couldn’t sing a sadder tune.