Life can be so fast paced that slowing down seems like a concession. I don't generally confront this fact until forced to, as when I find myself walking behind a group of older people.
Look at them, so dear and so wise. They may not smell like you and me but they know more than just how to crowd a sidewalk. They're in the most important footrace but still manage to savour each moment as they make their way.
Someday, that'll be me - stealth no longer mine, my body a network of betrayal. Then my instincts take over. A couple of well placed kicks and canes and limbs go flying. I laugh along my way to new adventures and know they barely have time to even wonder what hit them. Ah, to be youngish.
Prologue: Wrapped in a Wholesome Kind of Misery
18 hours ago