The End of an Era

I'm writing from the office in my new apartment, my first new one in eight years. There are an incredible amount of memories at 10 Hamilton Rd. I spent a quarter of my life there, and I daresay the best quarter of my life. U We served fabulous meals at Thanksgiving, Christmas, and countless cookouts. We wove tales of vampires and mages and the end of the world. We pushed minitures around in the attic some days, and gyrated under red and blue lights to pulsing music. We had calm, quiet social nights watching movies. We had raucous nights fueled with alcohol, and blurry buzzing nights with other fuel. We had fits of anger, shouting matches, and night spent in amorous grappling. We watched our favorite TV characters live and die and live again. When I say we I mean you and you and you, various readers in various times. Everyone who ever passed through my doors. All of you left a little something behind.

The new house is still empty, and feels it. It is dusty like an old museum. It is blank like the snow, open to absorb more memories. I don't know if I'll still be here in another eight years. But I know that there will be time aplenty to create more memories. Time for these halls to echo with laughter, and the clatter of dice, and with happy sighs. There will be drinks spilled, and movies viewed. There will be new adventures, and I know that once again, you will be a part of them.