Everything feels brown, unless you look closely.
But today, I prefer the long view. So I can see clearly, through the debris of my imagination.
Sometimes, I look backward.
I know what you’re thinking. The past is dead. Yet, it really isn’t.
Yesterday, I enjoyed a chicken and avocado sandwich again, the other half, a day later. Yes, it was a bit dry. Even so, I thought, I like sandwiches of all sorts.
At 76.
For years, I denied this trivial truth, repeating a thoughtless mantra about my mother’s cold lunches every day through high school. Does this work for you? Blaming a parent who can no longer defend herself.
Recognizing this is the danger of an early spring walk in the park. One naturally continues to interrogate. Inevitably, before the wire under the fingernail, you become a blabbering turncoat.
And, of course, it doesn’t stop with sandwiches.
