Sitting at the bar next to my grandfather was the height of luxury, a tall, cold Shirley Temple in front of me and an extra glass full of extra maraschino cherries next to it. It was time to leave when both glasses were empty, but there are a lot of ways to make a glass full of cherries last forever.
I get stuck in the past when the future gets too big, a needle in the record of a favorite song. These months have been hard, and my upcoming trip makes me breathlessly nervous. After Dream's death I didn't take any time off; couldn't take any time, since the only way to keep myself going was to break up my time into small manageable chunks, and so I'm very tired. In just over a week I'll be off on an adventure, sitting on trains and town squares and thinking, but the anticipation is making me crazy.
The anticipation makes me wistful for the lingering taste of sweet cherries.
No comments:
Post a Comment