Wednesday, January 06, 2010
Certain moments occurring singly on rare days within the brief span of an anonymous life are inexplicably enjoyed. There is no way to understand them, they conform to no reason, and therefore cannot be anticipated, hoped for, or willfully repeated. These moments while fleeting leave an impression. Some with sufficient temerity call this lingering impression happiness. I do not. I do not know what to call this impression, but it does not need a name to make the mud of daily life stick less to the boots, reducing the sucking sounds of our little march.