Old Words, New Words

They looked at his face and then at the name tag that hung from his neck. They told him they sometimes read his stuff, that they liked the words, that they sounded melodic.

Once not long ago, he had opened a journal to read his own words written many years before. He had pulled back the cover and turned the full pages, but he could not stand to read them so he had slammed the book shut.

Perhaps, he thought, they saw something he didn't. Perhaps there was something they heard that he couldn't. Yet those other words were written a long time ago, in a different place, for a different purpose, in a different voice, by a different man. So maybe, he thought, it was good in the end that he'd slammed shut that journal and kept on writing without looking back.

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Thank you, Margaret and Stacy.
JournalCon 2003, Austin TX

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