When Saturday was much less lonely.
Sometimes, I crave solitude. Last night I craved it, after silly worry that amounted to nothing, but caring is exhausting, though oh so worth it.
Then when I wake and only want to keep on sleeping, I let my mind wander in the silence of loneliness and memories of past Saturday’s come flooding back.
I could write an essay or I could write it into a memoir. Or I could write it as
stream of consciousness
because another Saturday is upon me.
Saturday markets. Early mornings and still so dark. Getting an early start. Meat counters. Fresh juice. Outdoor fruit and veggie stands in the cool light of dawn.
Off to the mall, shopping and then lunch buffets.
Or, once, ppancakes and then McDonald’s to see how long the longest fry might be.
As I spend a quiet Saturday with my own thoughts, after a busy week in 2017, I miss the old relationships that evolve, change, and vanish into thin air.
Night lights made with delicate glass and wire. Bright lights shining on pennies in shopping mall fountains.
Christmas lights, bright lights of the midway, now dimmed and dimness and loneliness…I knew it all when.