I am reading The Night Ocean by Paul La Farge. Two days have passed and I'm nearly halfway through the book. I'm sure my friend maribou would tease me and say something along the lines of, "I would've finished it in a few hours." Still it's good to read again, to feel like my brain still functions and the only tools necessary are these humble reading glasses and the clip-on lamp for the darker hours.

Tonight, after watching What We Left Behind a documentary about the television show Deep Space Nine and an imaginary 8th season taking place 20+ years after the series finale and when my washing was complete with everything in the dryer, I read on the back deck. It was interesting to note how I was distracted by the appearance of fireflies. Now and again my eyes wandered to watch the changing character of the sky from daylight tinged with orange followed by the blue hour until night had been drawn across the Jersey shore leaving only the ghost of fairy fire along the western horizon while the sun sinks deeper.

I thought about Leah, my continuing conflicted thoughts and emotions associated with her. The impending inevitable. How the last time I saw her in person I brought up my interest in acquiring EU citizenship by virtue of jus sanguinis and relocating yet again. I remember how she became upset and the old, combative dynamic came into play. Familiar, frustrating, but there was minor relief because I didn't have to stay there in the house. Kinda like how child-free adults wax poetic about their niblings yet punctuate those praises with a smile and, "We don't have to take them home with us."

Same with Leah.

Sadly with Leah.

To my surprise, Dave reached out to me this evening. Dave's the guy who got me the job as a title searcher for those of you playing along at home.

Hey, Chrissy Baby. How are you? Tracey and I were

Out for a walk and we thought about you and wanted to say hi

So I caught him up. The fact he reached out to me made me kinda nervous since he's management now, though not my manager, and wondered if he might be fishing or seeing how I might take bad news. I can be anxious and paranoid, but rather I took his text at face value.

For what it's worth, Dave reminds me a lot of Leah. Extroverted and controlling. Last time I saw him and Tracey in person I had the opportunity to watch their dynamic and Dave came across very much as a male Leah while Tracey was more... submissive? Unlike me, from my perspective, she was far from being obstinate and appeared compliant to please him. For a second I felt for her, but I remembered how close the two are as a married couple. They never seem to be unhappy and I presume Dave does listen to her in the same measure that she listens to him. How they are friends and companions and so forth.

Tomorrow's another day. Time to breathe and take life one minute at a time.

Which reminds me of a picture which hung in the downstairs bathroom in the house where I lived before leaving for Colorado. It was a series of quotes, aphorisms, and wisdom typeset in different colors. I'd always read it while sitting on the pot. As I wrote "Time to breathe and take life one minute at a time", I recalled one of the aphorisms from that picture — There's more to life than increasing its speed.

Very true.

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