'A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye.'
Jan. 30th, 2017 09:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootI saw Dad for a split second last night.
He appeared in the most cliched way, out of the mist. He was standing on a wooden quay next to a little moored boat and he looked at me, his expression serious. The trouble with these things is that once the picture is there, the mind starts creating a story/conversation, possible extrapolations, the kind of thing he might say. So I put that to one side.
But this is the second time I have seen him in my minds eye, as opposed to a memory.
Next time I shall be more Hamlet-like, though cheerful having no Elsinore to baffle me. But like Hamlet, if he speaks, how do I know it's not just me talking?
He appeared in the most cliched way, out of the mist. He was standing on a wooden quay next to a little moored boat and he looked at me, his expression serious. The trouble with these things is that once the picture is there, the mind starts creating a story/conversation, possible extrapolations, the kind of thing he might say. So I put that to one side.
But this is the second time I have seen him in my minds eye, as opposed to a memory.
Next time I shall be more Hamlet-like, though cheerful having no Elsinore to baffle me. But like Hamlet, if he speaks, how do I know it's not just me talking?
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}