That wobbly fluff of joy is Dorothy coming down the trail dancing and swaying left and right. She could be my older sista but when speaking sounds like an elementary school girl. It appears she is petrified when standing still. As soon as put in motion she is liberated of wittnessing eyes; free to roam wherever little feet take her.
Yesterday I met Jessica. She is from Minnesota as some would pronounce it as Mini-soooda. In short walk to our cars she expresses my long harbored feelings of longing for nothern weather, all four seasons and the beauty their changes bring. I am falling in love as I am trying to move king as a queen and hop over with a bishop like it's a knight. Will I survive this time around? I've been still losing weight and power in my limbs; vigor became just a dictionary word along with exhuberance. I've became skilled pronouncing the pain like Jao, Oj, Oj, Uh! Reminds me of a short story written by Tolstoj starting with a sick man laying in a bed making those sounds knowing it is not getting better and of saying that man only whimper in little cries when passing on a love of their lives. Pathetic.
