Some mornings I wake up from this dream about a friend I haven't seen in 20-odd years, and my chest feels hollowed out with longing for him, for that connection. It feels deliciously right and disappointingly sad at the same time. It's a mystery.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
J. crossing one of the old bridges over a creek in the woods of the doggie park. Notice the little doggie above his head, that's Cocoa.