A Memory Of Trees Like 0 Twitter James Gabriel Follow June 28, 2016, 9:39 p.m. in Creative Views: 515 Like us on facebook Her face still haunts, even though the image is a girl just half my age. There is a place my spirit still lingers. A place that is beginning to fade from existence. It is a land of dead things where trees go after being chopped, processed and preserved. It smells of mild decay, old wood, dirt and filtered air. For a time it was my sanctuary. It was a place I could lock myself away from the responsibilities of the everyday. It was the place I saw her for the first time and it was she that caused me to linger. For days I would sit and read as Quixote watching from afar until I could not stand it and leave. In the end, I closed one last book, walked the mahogany rows of Dewy Decimals and left through the double doors. I look back more often than I like to admit and I still see her smiling as she wanders the rows that hold a memory of trees. Share Mail Messenger Twitter Pinterest Linkedin Comments Related Article Creative Family Secret Creative The Sepulchre Creative Darkness of the Night!