seemingly

I worked there 8 years.  What I liked about the job was buried too deep to recover.  Left behind for social engineers to pay consultants to study.  Piece together the findings of a lost civilization. Going back to a place where there is a vivid memory.  Once the landscape has changed there is no recreating the time the space the feeling.  The change in awareness makes it impossible to not know.  With new understanding comes new sensations.  You can't hold onto both at the same time.  The places the imagination can create.  The complexity each moment carries comes without enough time to allow the development of certainty.  Not stopping long enough to get used to.  Familiar. Thick. Crux.  The place in a wound that is the center of a scar.

My most memorable memory at that job.  I don't recall any details of that day other than:  I was cashiering.  A long line of customers.  Barely enough time to look up and see who I was helping.  A guy with a face tattoo on his left forearm.  I asked is that Jesus?  He didn't answer with words.  So I looked into his eyes.  He smiled with a surprised look on his face, surprised that I knew.  I said Catholics honor the Holy Face.  Now I've heard of people claiming to see auras and colors coming off people.  What I saw surrounding this guy didn't fit not one description I've ever heard.  Colorless like the ripples of heat on a hot surface.  There was a discernible warmth in his presence.  Perfectly balanced male energy.  A rare gem. A faith renewing experience.