I fell back in time. Which made it seem a lot longer.
I kept coming up with the same visual. Shelter, weather and a moon overhead. The rest of the details, no matter what they may be seem to fit into this picture. I made a note to self, that shelter (from the storm) is a quick roof over one's head, but a home is built from scraps of self and that is built over time. And the moon in the old sky is just always there.
Notes to self, when shared, become the story.
Scraps of self, are like Threadcrumbs. They have history to fall back on. Scraps of self shared, what might they become?