The Saddest Thing − 30 June, 2008
They move inside a frame cut into the darkness. You can’t hear them speak, but in the dim yellow light, you can see them laugh and smile at one another as figures dance soundlessly on the television in front of them. It is a scene that you can never really be a part of, even when you are. It is a world thousands of miles away, painted on a dusty canvas and tucked away in some dusty attic.
With a cigarette smoldering in my hand and the cool night air running its fingers through my short hair, I stand barefooted on my porch, looking into my house. My family lives as strangers behind a dirty window and I can't reach them.
