Duality of the year.

not so close up

When he got back evening was falling and snow already had.

They had taken everything.

The windows were smashed, and one of the doors was unhinged and nothing remained.

They had even emptied the store where he kept his memories.

These had been wrapped in black plastic bin liners and looked worthless even to the uneducated eye but they were the biggest loss.

He couldn’t even remember what they contained.

But maybe the cold was numbing his brain.

He just knew they were priceless.

As he stood there, unsure whether to rage or weep, people were setting flares into the snow – a rally was coming this way and he would be in theirs.

He was as unnecessary as he was impotent.