It gets more difficult to blog. I've already told
my stories. I worry my memory is an unreliable narrator. My personal mythology resembles a disintegrating comic book from the twirling rack in the dust motes of the Rexall Drug window on Main. Each week it gets more difficult to pass the quiz of current events past and future. The choppy water doesn't smell all that great. Rot stirred up from the bottom. Cherry blossom petals blast in a sideways
storm. The saturated brush hovers low over the damp thick paper.
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| Choppy water on the Tidal Basin |
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| Storm front approaching |
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| Fifty years since King's assassination |
So many wreaths and speeches in fifty years. So little action in the cause of mankind as a whole.
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| Loyalty to mankind as a whole |
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| Field trip kids copying quotes |
© 2013-2017 Nancy L. Ruder
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