Bowling Alley

“See those two? A first date.”  He pointed to a chubby bowler in a Hawaiian shirt with a woman in pink polyester shorts. She had big hair and ruby red lips.

I watched. Mr. Chubby hit strikes. Ms. Pink threw gutter balls. He was patience personified. He kept laughing, never once tightening his face.

“You’re right. He’ll laugh if she drops the ball on his foot,” I said.

Ms. Pink dropped her ball on Mr. Chubby’s foot. His eyes said Pain but he laughed.

“How about a game of Scrabble?” he said as we left.

“Yes.” Triple word score.      

**Thanks to Albuquerque Reading Works for the challenge to write 100 word stories for their 2021 writing contest. They are an adult literacy center and a good cause.

From the Quarantine Trail

It has been 58 weeks of walking on nearby trails looking for sanity, hope, and health. This path took us to Aztec Ruins, where the Ancestral Puebloans settled in the 12th century. This spring’s new green around the ancient walls served as a reminder to walk on and look forward even while we honor the past. Spring is back, summer is soon to follow. The cycle of the earth continues. So will we.

Brancusi and Me

brancusi.rock

We’ve been walking by this rock almost every day for a while now. Last week, I decided it looked familiar. Bronze and stone sculptures shaped like big eggs, sometimes with cracks in them. Hmm.  Brancusi! The Romanian sculptor made a big impression on me when I saw an exhibit of his work at the Chicago Art Institute when I was a teenager. Brancusi appears to be with me still, even across decades and many miles. I was young and falling in love with art. Something in those sculptures mesmerized me. Now here he is again, on a high desert trail reaching out to me. What’s the message?  Maybe–get back to your writing work. You’re burning daylight.