Sunday morning.
The last day of the weekend.
Things are returning slowly to normal.
It is unpleasant.
I've slept later the last few days
The cold
A false sense the pressure is off
And perhaps some real sense
that I'm not far from being ready for next week
The morning is gone now, I've ridden downtown and back and eaten.
It was a cold, uncomfortable start, the final hill I took my longsleeve shirt off and rode in with a t-shirt.
I saw this on the way back.
I also ran across this ghost. Many a time I rode by and this door was boarded shut, but today it had been torn open and I was able to look inside. I suppose I could have looked inside from a little higher up too since the roof is missing.
Nothing but walls and a little tile, this was once the only jewish grocery store, a block from the greek temple, suggetsing, perhaps, an ethnic aspect to the neighborhood where my grandparents once lived.
The store left me feeling strange, wondering what secrets those walls still held, what ghosts wandered down invisible isles looking for long vanished, kosher foods, perhaps boxes of candles for the sabbath or a flour substitute for passover.
I wonder what is happening now, with so much that could be happening and I know nothing.
The river and the ride that took me there are now far back as far as these things go.
The universe could end with an inflection point which is had the current expansion, but not the current universe started.
And yet, there is a certain truth in this.
What I wouldn't give to know what is happening, and I know exactly what I could give and therefore what I'd have to give.
And sadly, I know what I want to know.
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