Medford, Oregon, 2015 — In memory, an entire lost continent can repose, with sometime awakening to peek through eternal mists. And so many things can remain the same, in memory.
Once and again upon such a time, on a particular this morning, toward the end of breakfast, Susan said, “Oh, look at that,” pointing far to my left.
While I’m oogling out the window, seeing nothing unusual, she’s stealing the last sips of my coffee.
Ha! I’d let it go cold. Serves her right.
The rewards of crime are cold.