Scattered memories

Time just keeps pushing its way through that swinging door. I’m not even trying to stop it anymore. It seems kind of pointless anyway. Thinking I can pile enough memories in the doorway to keep it from leaving. But memories are pretty light and not the best things for making barricades with. And if time really wants to leave, all it has to do it flap its wings, and I’ll spend days picking up all those scattered memories.