Saturday Considerations

After days of crumbling nostalgia and seeming uncertainty, I have settled back into my own skin.

Bundled and hopeful, I shuffle downtown armed with my umbrella and the Feist. This weather/music combination always reminds me of London. A warmth pulses through me and I sigh in blissful comfort. The past feels like that sometimes. Like hugging an old friend. 

I leisurely wander in and out of overpriced boutiques, repeating  “I can make this” in my head as I inspect hand crafted cards, candles and prints. 

A call from my brother almost has me turn back and head for an afternoon of work on my computer. But a little spark in my soul advises me otherwise. I order a chai latte and sink into a plush, worn, green couch at a local coffee shop. My jeans are damp from my rendezvous in the rain. The warm chai floods down my throat and tingles all the way to my feet. I pour over Kerouac like  a college kid discovering freedom for the first time; in awe and inspired. Frantically highlighting and underlining phrases, inspired by his honesty and embarrassed by my own lack. Lack of creativity and adventure. Age does that to you. Like a coy thief, slowly replacing idealistic dreams with dull practicalities. 

Determined to not give in to complacency, I take off for the open paved suburban road …

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