Walking Cross-Town. With a String of Pearls.


What’s the significance of words strung together like gleaming pearls lassoed around your neck.

a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.

I roll them around my head like a handful of marbles in my right hand, glassy, smooth, and manufactured in absolute perfection.  My Marbles. Mine.

As Firth read Thomas Wolfe’s passage, it was lightning, an electric current, the body shivering from a forced seizure.

I grabbed the remote control to pause the streaming. There was Firth, in the frozen frame, holding the pages of the manuscript, waiting patiently for me to catch my breath, to digest the words.

Yet there’s been no digestion. I float down a slow moving river that loops, bathing in the beauty of the words, the rhythm of the passage and the mystery of their meaning.

…a stone, a leaf, an unfound door; a stone, a leaf, a door. And of all the forgotten faces.

What unfound door?

What forgotten faces?


Thomas Wolfe: Who better to talk to than the man who created something immortal. More and more I trouble myself with that. ‘The Legacy.’ Will anyone care about Thomas Wolfe in 100 years? Ten years?

F. Scott Fitzgerald: When I was young I asked myself that question every day. Now, I ask myself, “Can I write one good sentence?”



  1. words are pearls
    sentence a string
    turn and let it hang
    down like a link
    eyes do watch
    head turn wink
    gotcha! Mr 🙂
    thoughts you think

    Liked by 4 people

  2. What forgotten face? What unfounded door? And yes, those questions echo in one’s head…perhaps arriving one unsuspecting moment, with an answer..

    Liked by 3 people

  3. all we have is now.

    Liked by 2 people

  4. Great thoughts, and the photo…even better ! ☺

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’m hooked and wonder what will come to the surface.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Second cup of coffee already poured. This one? Stronger. Darker. Aromatic boldness. Whew!
    Show me your face, and damn it just open the door…

    Liked by 2 people

  7. Two, maybe three time I felt the same way about a strand of words in your writing David, and other writers as well.
    In writing or other forms of expression I frequently come across what stops me in my tracks.
    Then I decided they either all leave secrets in their art on purpose, or unintentionally a layer of something of different significance to different people.
    Don’t know! But I like the mystery.

    Liked by 3 people

  8. I think the more I practice living in the present moment 🙂 The less chance I have to miss those doors and those faces. Great writing.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Bathing in the beauty of your words, the rhythm of the passage and the mystery of their meaning. Yes.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Love your writing, David… 🙂

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Lovely, Peals like words don’t lie on the beach, you have to dive and have grit to get them.

    Liked by 2 people

  12. Most times I can digest your posts with the ease of pudding. This creative addition, though, has me thinking and re-reading. More like pasta. Whole wheat, of course. Harder to digest, better for you. Thanks for this gem.

    Liked by 2 people

  13. “If any man shall hear my voice and open to me the door, I will come in to him and will sup with him: and he with me.”

    Liked by 2 people

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: