The Loch Ness Apology
In the darkness of the deepest night, I thought I saw an Apology once. It wasn’t near as scary as people had made it seem. Actually, it looked quite nice. From what I could see in those shadows, it was vast but somehow seemed to take up very little space. Its mouth was turned down and its eyes were wide and glowing. Funny, I didn’t see any fangs. But as quickly as it had come, it vanished.
A few nights later I thought I saw it again, but it was only an illusion, like those dark shadows that seem to flit away at the edge of your vision. Apologies are like that, I think. They’re illusive, which makes them very valuable.
I’d heard once about a man who saw so many Apologies that he decided against their significance and favored instead the monstrous Cold Shoulder. These beasts are much larger than apologies. Their icy skin seems to stretch on for miles, cutting through and destroying anything it its path, especially Apologies. Cold Shoulders are the only known predators of Apologies. Well, besides humans I suppose.
So, one day, I decided to try to create an Apology. I tried to put an Apology together with the crease in your brow and the downward turn of your lips. I pulled your silence into bunches and tried to fashion them into the body of the Apology. I gathered hateful words and slammed doors and cloudy days, but none of them would fit into the Apology mold. I didn’t let this stop me. I’ll keep trying to fashion an Apology for you because I don’t know when I’ll be lucky enough to see one again.