Walking to work this morning, something caught my attention: Small bits of red licorice scattered along the sidewalk, trailing over three blocks.
I didn’t follow to find out to where they led. I know better.
It’s October.
Category: reflections
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air
As a child, very young, I was rushed to the hospital with the croup.
As my mother tells it, I was sick and she went in to check on me when I was taking a nap . . . and I was gray.
That was Christmas Eve 1970. I was 18 months old.
I remember it.
I remember being in the hospital on Christmas, opening my presents there.
Even now, from time to time, I still dream of choking. I dream that I have no breath to draw, dream my lungs are being crushed under some unseen hand . . . dream I’ve no air to speak the words in my mouth . . . dream I am gasping for breath…
Even now, I sometimes wake with a hard knot deep in the back of my throat that lingers for hours.
