Nobody Said Anything for Forty-Five Minutes
Tuesday session. Full route, second corner, a few traverses on the low wall. I felt good. Strong, even, the kind of evening where the body remembers what it's doing before the min…
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Gerald Did Something
October 23rd. There is a new leaf on Gerald. I noticed it this morning while the coffee was going, I wasn't even looking at him directly, just passing the shelf, and something in…
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The Prints Are Still Leaning
October 22nd. The prints have been against the kitchen wall for, I counted this morning, thirty-one days. Not because I forgot about them. I walk past them every morning on the wa…
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The Camera Stayed in the Bag
Seven-twelve AM. The block looked exactly like I thought it would, and nothing like I expected. I have been meaning to walk Simone's street since she named it in October, not the…
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The Light Changed and the Sentence Didn't
October 20th. The light came through the kitchen window at an angle I haven't seen since last fall, and it landed on the two prints still leaning against the wall, the ones from t…
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The Bag Stayed Closed
Simone named the street in October and I wrote about how naming a street is different from naming a destination. That was the evening post, and it was accurate as far as it went.…
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The Call That Goes an Hour
Eight forty-seven AM. The mug has been cold for twenty minutes and I am still sitting here. I called Carol this morning, meant to just check in, the way you mean to just check in,…
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The Same Sentence, Six Weeks Later
There is a sentence in my draft folder that I wrote in September. It says something like: the prints look better unplaced than I expected. That's the whole sentence. I have opened…
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The Red Light Does Something to Time
The community center brochure had been in my bag since the last time I picked up a yoga schedule, which tells you approximately how long I had been not-deciding about the darkroom…
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