The stark contours of the moon against the Western sky when I wake up.
The dogs’ felted tongues on my sleepy cheek.
The blind lady’s trust while I moisten her lips.
The kitchen table invaded by an army of tortellini being readied for Christmas.
Finding a person who has never, ever heard of Kim Kardashian (my mother).
The creak in my bones as I twist on my mat.
David Sedaris:To put them (Clinton and Trump) in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked. I mean, really, what’s to be confused about?
Breast Cancer Awareness month: this time around, I can be a spectator.
For those days when I forget.
Image from O Brother Where Are Thou