Vanishing

Another acquaintance of mine has disappeared.  I asked people who knew him about it,  and they just shrugged.  Maybe they know and don't trust me enough to say, but the man is gone.  It happens all the time.   I'm thinking that perhaps it is my particular circumstances where people vanish, relationships break up suddenly, and that it is only me, my world that's constructed this way.

Because in the novels I read things like this don't happen, or when they do,  readers and reviewers complain about dangling, incomplete plots.  Life flows in literary works without constant crashes, without ends before the last page, without black holes.  In my own life, plots tend to stop suddenly, and when that happens, there is nothing to write home about. Is it just me, you then ask?  What did I do wrong?  What should I have done instead? Etc, etc.

It's different in popular songs. There, perhaps it is the short format that allows it.


Little Richard:
I woke up this morning, Lucille was not in sight.
I asked my friends about her but all they did was sigh

Carole King:

So far away

Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?