There is nothing but the past available tonight. It's everywhere I look. The rain, even, reminds me. It's falling everywhere and from all sides. We are in the swamp of summer here in Charlotte. In the mornings I go for bike rides, just like I used to do. That, of course, reminds me of my age even as it is making me feel marginally younger. It feels like I'm breathing moisture, even at sunrise. I go blind from the salt that pours across my eyes. Perhaps I've seen everything that I want to see.
Before life takes it all, it takes everything over time.
I recall: "At 50 everybody has the face they deserve."
I hope that I don't look surprised.
