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MIRROR MIRROR
The person I see each morninglooks vaguely familiar, perhapssomeone I once met in passing,or maybe a distant relative.But he was so much olderso he was difficult to place. I do say hello each morningbut get only a nod, a gesturein response, as if the personis mute, for he smiles backso it is not a silence…
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SLEEVE
I wear my hearton my sleeve, he said,so you know what I’mfeeling at any given momentand I am an open bookso you can read my thoughtswhenever you wish to do so. His smile said he wasproud of this state,and he did say it sethim apart from most people. She laughed and saidto him, “But you…
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TIME WHEN
There waa a time whennews wasn’t news, carriedby mouth, one personto another a game of telephonebefore that concept existed. Newspapers promised usthe news, but in the timeit took to write and print it,it was nearly news,or at worst slightly olds. Now the world is alwaysavailable instantly, but weknow or should, that halfof the time we…
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A DECIMAL SYSTEM
So, if I have it right, Godmanaged to come up with tenplagues for Moses to visiton Pharaoh, although at the timeMoses probably could notunderstand why it was ten,since God was boundlesslycreative, or so He told Moses. Maybe it dawned on Moseswhen wandering in the desertthat ten was a convenient number,after all, he only gave Mosesten…
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IT IS TIME
It is time they said, but they never said what it was time for, although they seem to know. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere, confined to this chair, a quadriplegic. He was the chair really as he had no way of moving it. He had no way of moving anything except by putting…
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SENSO-JI
By hour six, the plane was just a lumbering beast dividing the sky, halfway from God knows where to nowhere special. His body cried for sleep but he knew he had to deny it. That much he had learned from prior trips. For when he landed, made his way painfully slowly into the city, it…
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IN MY BAG
I carry my pastin a monk’s bagthat rests on my shoulder. In it you will findmy history, or bitsof it, names I havebeen given, given up,memories of childhood,pictures of my parentswho I never knew,aged in my mind fromthe photos in yearbooks,all that I have of them.. I still have roomin my bag, perhapsmore room than…
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THE RITE
It is coming, a littleover a week now and itwill arrive, always too soon,never ready despite knowingits precise arrival day and time. We will be ready, butonly after a scramble, for thatis how it must be, howit has always been. And again this year wewill be thankful, as all claimon this day, but why do…
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SAY CHEESE
The meeting drags on. Time is frozen. The space between a smile and a grimace is the edge of a fine blade and the width of a canyon. And you maintain the smile hoping it is not seen as the rictus you feel. Politeness requires a smile, your heart requires a fast escape. So you…
