Vapor Trails

Early morning at work, I stood behind my desk and shuffled papers before colleagues arrived. A movement in front of me brought my head up, and for the briefest of illuminations, I thought I saw the image of someone I knew walking up the middle aisle, carrying papers, books, something black plastic like a binder held in her two hands, head bent down as if studying the materials. Cream colored sweater, dark-rimmed glasses; makeup, jewelry, hair in a short blonde bob. Taupe pants. It happened in a flash.

This could have purely been my brain performing a camera flash blip, lord knows the stress at work is ramping up. Was it a flick of light from the outside window that was built into a jigsaw image by inner circuits? I am forever seeing long-gone cats out of the corner of my eye at home, and this is what I say most likely occurred. This area had been her classroom, I had seen Barbara walk towards the back of the room many times, perhaps morning coffee jaggled the vision from my overtired hippocampus.

Oh, I really don't want to go on with this, I don't mean to be presumptuous. Only that maybe we leave trails of energy, memory if you want to call it that, as we pass through daily routine. did I see a piece of Barbara's memory? I really, really don't think she was there; she never was one to stay in one place or avoid a challenge, and I believe she is secure in her new position in the afterlife. The what ifs just clatter around like china dishes loose in a box.

Sleep well, all of us. I wish I did.