The Last Friday The Eve of the Full Moon

I’m sure you’ve heard writers say their book wrote itself. I say, I have no problem with that. Go for it. Ask Siri for help. He’ll show you the ten tips he found on line.

Snowed all day. The plow didn’t quite keep up, so it was a good day for errands. I started with the dump. Can you be nostalgic for something you’ve never done? My grandmother was impoverished. She didn’t drive. My brother told me she pulled her groceries in a wagon. I have my multipurpose sled. Both my brother and I talk longingly of our weekend trips to the dump with our dad. Unfortunately, my brother couldn’t join me on this one. Sorry, Bro. This is the way we always talk to each other.

I was dressed for falling snow. I was focused on contours of shades of white. In the distance the white looked like a sheet of silk floating toward me. And then there they were, in front of me. Two huge moose. They picked up the pace and in a few steps they were in the woods. I took my camera from my jacket pocket and walked up closer. The largest one was waiting for me to catch up. I snapped two shots. We blinked a few times. We looked at each other long enough to know we have no relationship. He went his way, and I went mine.