When I write a blog about stuff and things and thoughts and whatevers, I am cautious. Oh, yes, I do boundary swipe, shift wordings, alter the cations of things, I am guilty of all of those so called crimes. However, as the languages around us change, challenge, and then become a part of of what we say out there on the street, in the grocery shop, between ourselves, I adapt. Sentences morph into new creatures, verbs become nouns, adverbs and adjectives (still well over employed) sprite their unspelling into sentences, or comments. T’is the way of now, and we had better get the hang of the new hang, or we just might end up without a single visitor. Just saying.

That aforeness is nothing to do with my theme. However, it might be. This is about a friend. My age, my friend from the age of 7 or thereabouts. Reluctant boots tapping up the metal steps and onto the school bus together, pulling back as the driver moved off too quick, steadying, moving to the back, or near as dammit, every single day. Fixing school packs, settling into gammy seats, talking, looking out, facing the day ahead, and then the coming home. We all had trouble in our hearts. She was a good student. I wasn’t. But we still stuck together. I met disapproval everywhere. She never did, but I knew and still know that she was as wild as I, but could control her wild, her language, her longing for freedom. I never asked her about that. We grew apart, over choices, over timelines, over hundreds of miles, but the connection doesn’t bother with any of that shit.

And now she has gone dark. I’m watching her. You went into the quick dark my darling. There is quick light awaiting you. If that is your choice.