... the dream. I awoke, alert and sharp this morning, and already thinking. This is a new mode for me – now closer to 60 than 50, I no longer float gently to consciousness; burrow in and slip back to the relaxed respiration of sleep; rouse, wrestle with...
How...? How indeed. Did I mention my hair used to be black? Black as an Indian's, or a Latina's, in my youth. I spent many a moment barefoot in little corner stores, jumping in surprise at politely but loudly proffered aid: "CAN... I... HELP...