(Fireman, J.)
It has been some time, probably since my mother's death, since I have felt such a strange alloy of emotions. In some ways I am relieved, as when the pain of another's dying ceases and that is somehow better than what led to it. There is also a happiness, associated with - though not dependent upon - that same feeling of relief. In yet still other ways I am not happy at all and might not be for some time, having to face significant loss and genuine uncertainty.
Soon, I will hopefully be able to write about things rather than merely around them, though essences are often preferable to specifics.
Soon, I will hopefully be able to write about things rather than merely around them, though essences are often preferable to specifics.
(Fighting Fire with Water)
Yesterday, we took my friends' boy to the local firehouse where the firemen offered a pancake breakfast. The kids and parents come from all over the county and get to look at the trucks on display, then ride on the antique ones with sirens and copper bells flashing. It was fun in the way that one can become truly happy for the happiness of another; watching the boy leap about endlessly in the jumpy castle. It is a contagious joy. He would have slept there if he could have, undiminished by repetition, fascinated by the unceasing buoyancy of living.
(Floating)
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