the ghost of divorce
day turns to night, the droning darkness hides shapes and shadows of things past feels the goblin as he looks out across the lightly lit city of Geneva, "...cold is king then..." he thinks aloud to himself alone with his thoughts "...in the cold of the night comes these ghosts, god I hate them as much as they must hate me, they won't die till I do, I know that, and my mother brings them back from where I thought I buried them inside..." the goblin's mind went back to his first marriage, of letting go a little girl's hand and saying "...mummy and daddy are not happy..." and then the formalities of separate lives of an ex wife and a daughter of his first marriage at an ever acceptable distance, and each with new lives and partners, each understanding that "it was the only way", "the right thing", "one can't live a lie can one", etc.," but the goblin also knew that no amount of understanding puts this ghost to rest, "...time hadn't..." he was struggling to say what he saw now, "...but a death in the family puts family members back facing one another again..." said the goblin "...our unspoken ghost will be sitting between us three I imagine while we pretend to be nice to one another..."
