Walking through the gallery, memories from the past came drifting in. They just drifted in , then drifted right back out. I used to resonate with this place – we were on the same wavelength, we understood each other. Then everything changed. It was no longer fun to be here. Did it make a difference that my work was here now? Did my work being on display take some of the edge off of other people’s work? Should it even be here? If so, should other people’s work be here? I strived for perfection, to be the best that I could be. And now I was here. And there is no resonance.

(c) November 2012 Bonnie Cehovet


2 comments on “Resonance

  1. Love your flash fiction, Bonnie! ♥

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