For most of my adult life, I would call my parents, but only once a week. Even into my retirement, I had to preserve my sense of independence. But their average age is now over ninety, so our daily phone calls reassure me they are stable and I energize them with my adventures.
On Halloween Eve, while Rick littered his front lawn with mock foam tombstones, his former neighbor Chuck stopped to visit. They shook hands. Chuck was close to 50, his once brown hair now peppered with gray. Rick hadn’t seen him in years. “What’s up, man?”
My best writing? Right about now. Unless it was earlier.
I am sheathed in gray, riding under smoky clouds and through heavy fog, soaked through on this late October afternoon, a light mist sliding off my lashes and I stick out my tongue to catch the rivulets running down my face. Continue reading DO IT ALL AGAIN