Every Step

So fine to be out last night, to be with people, to breath free air. Every step I take, every little stretch, I feel more confident, more alive. Thank God for that.

That led me to the Thinking Man for lunch today after my stroll with the camera among the Dead. Somewhere in a pint glass laced by ale, the words of Flannery wound so tight around such perfect kernels, pearls of words, I fell teary-eyed amidst bounty, and memory. A juicy burger, rich as the fat of Aaron's offering, and the woman I loved who had already decided, right there in that booth against the wall, she could not stay.

I felt filled, and purged alike, spent and satisfied and damned pleased to be alive.

Again.

art and life archive