4:44 p.m. - Sunday, Sept. 26, 2010
Innocense
Fingers fumbling on the keys . . .pinky relentlessly held in suspension . . .unwilling to relax. Never strengthened in youth like it should have been . . .like the good pianists. So now it tenses in revolt . . .just trying to stay out of the way.
My eyes wander from the page and into the yard, where the leaves are falling. I see the kids playing on the swingset across the complex and Bernadine walking with her new puppy. I need a break.
I step out onto the cool concrete and smell the fresh air. I think Bernadine is making a potato casserole. And the little girl two houses down is practicing her cello.
This life is so sweet. I must be happy. I've been laughing in my sleep. Woke myself up twice. Dreaming about puppies.
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