Vasteras

Words ebbed out by time, Boarding Pass Blue.

Over the weekend, I packed up my room and table. It was something that I've been putting off for a while. Besides, ritualistic packing purges, reassuringly. In the midst of my packing, I found this boarding pass. The ink bearing the details of the flight has already faded away. But I can still see the details of this boarding pass and recall that little airport in the middle of nowhere, the early morning rise on a dark winter's morning to catch the flight, the flight that would take me to a place I used to call home, and still secretly do. I placed this boarding pass on my keyboard to take this photo, not realising the irony of it all, that in spite of being surrounded by letters, not a single word was formed to recall this memory. The failure of words.