Saturday, January 5, 2013
I think I have walking pneumonia with lung congestion and aching bones and torn ego fabric. Every day I limp across the street to the long term care facility and talk with Minnie. The three people who sit in the chairs and listen are in various stages of decay. One has swollen feet. The other is in a wheelchair. A third uses a cane. "Thinking about all our younger years." It's a tribute to nostalgia...and I wish someone would overlook the despair of momentary madness to sing this with me...but the vintage decor of my face's ragged patina wards off mystery affairs.