I live on an old street with mostly older people it’s quiet default means we have time to ponder the picture of our lives histories painted from past to present with wide-angle views cover walls of memories some of us are prone to wishfully edit while others simply admire what they’ve done, amazed at the journey but everyone knows the Painter can’t help but add little details to your departing face just remember that before it’s left to hang and dry on the wall of e

one could define that as a kid on permanent vacation except we take fewer steps beyond the front door, return sooner, walk and not run neighborhoods, avoid falling or taking precocious risks, rarely get dirty and modestly sweat hearing it like that, makes us sound rather lifeless, like the lizard clinging to the sunlit wall on this cold morning which I bent over and delivered a long “O” of hot breath to its stiff body it never moved, just rolled its eyes so I blew out

only once did I sip and sup on a scone in Scotland with a friend and his mother Yes, cream please, I said as she poured the tea, familiarly mothering the teapot’s top and handle, as steam misted my glasses I swirled the poured cream - that spoon, no matter how delicately I tried, clinked on the saucer, annoying the silence a perfect silence, too, relaxed and poised for the soft chatter, that slipped through hot black tea and falling crumbs and as the tea cooled, word