Counterfeit Memories: A Hole in a Rock

Updated: May 14

Images clipped from magazines littered my desk, covered my walls, occupied my brain. My coworkers call it an obsession. My wife calls it a sickness. After years of begging, I finally convinced her to accompany me on the journey---to realize my dream.


The following weekend we loaded up the car and hit the road. My heart raced with each revolution of the engine as we drew closer to our destination. She just looked out the window wanting something more. We arrived late in the afternoon and immediately started the trek up the canyon. Every step for me was a blessing. Every step for her was a curse. The arch came into view.


Like the crest of a wave racing towards the shore, the arch rose overhead. I was captivated. A marvel of nature lay before me. It was everything I had hoped for and more but for her it was just a hole in a rock.


Washington, D.C., USA 

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©2019 by Taylor Mackay