Monday, October 5, 2015

A small room inside a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

What does the world want said about it today? What is its conversation? Shootings, trade deals, a woman's right to hide her face in public?

I want to write about a park bench whose dedication defines its subject as a mother, a sister, a wife and a daughter. Her dates tell us she lived just long enough to be cornered by these relationships, and that she loved penguins, apricots and sunny fall mornings.

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