Return to Me

Tonight’s tale is a journey through history – a story told from from present to past using a montage of images that trace backwards through time.  I used impressive text, rather than exposition, in an effort to convey the “feeling” of the story.  I’m calling it: “Return to Me”

Well that’s it, then. The worry stone is almost gone, like the last slivers of hope for my life.

Looking around now, it’s a wonder the stone has lasted this long.

I can hear the maid shuffling around the next room. Waiting for this story to be over.

I suppose to day is as good a day as any, but I really wish I could see her just one more time.

Things are so different now. I wish she could have seen how much I’ve learned.

Water and bronze. Her eyes as she screamed. “Get out!” The wrong one.

The village. The heat, the sweat. The musky smell of decayed leaves. Lust.

Merging into one. Continuos emotion without boundaries or words. Touching.


The delicate dance of our desire. Opening. Breathing.

Ha ha! The chase! Words to lure and seduce. Looks to kill and pierce the heart.

Introductions. Lavender, lace, and promise. Anxiety. Will I play the fool?

A vision, then a skip of the heart. The world changes and a dream begins to breathe.

In a crowd of strangers, yet horribly alone. I worry at my little stone. Will this be life?

I am new again. Raw. My uncle’s stone rattling in my pocket like and impatient mouse.

Old… so very old.

I remember where I got the stone. “Et in Arcadia Ego” it said. I am almost in heaven. Will she come?

I resign myself. I purify my soul and beg for the mercy of the divine. Please let her come.

A rustling like wings. Has she come? Have I been forgiven? Will I live in her eyes yet again?

“Return to me, my love,” she whispers. “Return to me…”