this is where we’ve paused right now – en route to therapy (Lots to Talk About).
the thing about recovering from surgery is that we can’t move very fast.
and we are used to moving like lightning: brain, legs, ideas, cities, countries, tasks.
but now we, well, we just can’t.
and so we pause on a bench and wait for our breath to rest easy again and look around and smile at people and sip tea and perhaps read a paragraph or two on whichever mobile device we have with us that contains that clever kindle “app” (we have the entire works of Shakespeare on aforementioned “app” contained in the quite mysterious “cloud” so we can read a sonnet or Portia’s speeches whenever we desire) or we can write a page (never knowingly without our latest moleskine) or we can notice a girl crying (true story) on a stoop (english people – this is a set of stairs leading up to a building, most often a brownstone, like in the Cosby Show) and say “hey, you having a bad day?” (we knew she was American so we didn’t use the more English-ness of “Oh, I say, rotter of a day what?” as per PG Wodehouse whom We Adore) and exchange kindness.
there’s a lesson in there somewhere ;)