Canned Love

canned goods, love storyAs I placed my head on the pillow to sleep, I suddenly thought about Artie. My heart choked up as if something was squeezing it, hard.

The pain pushed the blood, salt, and tears out of my soul.

I rose out of bed, realizing that sleep was impossible, and walked quietly, almost hypnotically, over to the master bath. What I needed was a good long soak in the tub . . . Continue reading

The Old Mansion on My Street

Concord MA, graveyardI consider taking a walk, but then I remember I need my crutches.

Not that I need the crutches. My leg is fine now. The break was clean; the cast inconvenient but a nice attention getter; the crutches cumbersome and ugly.

I would have liked to have thrown the tall rigid walking implements into the trash. Or at least recycled them for some other poor soul to use.

But, sagely, I left my un-needed crutches standing in the foyer, by the front door.

For just this kind of day. . .Autumn, fall leaves Continue reading