I am nostalgic for a time of which I am unfamiliar. There's this weird stillness of January that makes time feel stuck in a perpetual loop. When I'm driving down my street, glancing the snow-capped houses, catching the quick view overlooking the city below, it seems so old. The haze cast over everything makes me feel as if I'm traveling through time. Suddenly it’s the 1960s or 1970s, and everything feels familiar but not real.
© 2024 Jamie L. Rotante
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