The rooms bare of furniture now

are not empty; they are

full of you. You live in each

of them. Sometimes you

even acknowledge me. Like

now, you sit at the table and

watch me write this. Are

you there in some state

after death, or from another

strand of time? Some moment

colliding with mine? I

don't care; you are there and

only that counts, my father...

24.09.2017