The Haunting of Yesterday

Rain pounds the window pane outside my office, luring me into a contemplative, melancholy mood. Images of days past flood my deep, triggering an ache in my soul that I cannot describe . . I miss the hours that sifted through my fingers. . . the days that evaporated with the morning sun. Yesterday haunts me, taunts me. . . It beckons me back. I feel as if a part of me is dying. . . a part of us is passing, and I’m frantic with urgency to contain it. . . to bottle it up, so I never forget. This sense of loss sits heavy on my heart, halting the breath in my lungs. . . I feel selfish and scared as I strain to remember the promise that awaits. . .