but the odds are good.
..
Ah. Here I am with my life about to be taken over by conferring with writers between menial tasks, enjoying my sports bra sunburn (she makes me laugh) and dark Shoreham drives, Jillian's hula dancing and home, of all places. Home is all right now and I needed to make it so. Before I leave again.
..
Yesterday I walked out of the water, nearly losing my balance on the Sound's rounded stones, and remembered last year's metaphor: the child stumbling from the womb. This year I am still child but one who walks, one who learns the words.
And today I pull myself out and turn back to the water to see it glimmer gray-white under late-day sun. And I'm reminded of hope, something I haven't thought of in awhile. Well, what of hope? I hope my twin makes it back to Germany safely. I hope I don't step on glass when, for whatever reason, I take off my flip-flops on North Side Road and walk on fresh paved asphalt. I hope (you know what I hope)...the rest trails off like sun.
..
This does NOT apply to my life.
But it is funny:
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGAOpPTqjfqSDhFu1gk_aAC0p_Iis5k9rwlnzs0_sMLZ1ioleAu4gCGCDMS6VI3zSW6ESpUMAiqh6aG29AIFWI8coh4vAPV6JNVqK2UJWYcFUupUqLd4LN4sEug1FO_TN3KHE5Vw/s1600-h/fantasies.jpg
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