What happened was happening to others, but that did not mean that it was not also happening to him. The tall boy in middle distance on the lawn was connected to him. The tall man who had chiseled the name was connected to him. The child spinning happily in the playground four blocks away. His first wife, long gone, buried near here. His second wife, gone too, not into the earth but to Tokyo. The elderly couple calling his name. The young girl thinking of going out tonight. The woman driving away toward the lychgate, fumbling with fast food papers. He read the marble message, “What is not understood is sometimes a source of strength,” and stood there sobbing.
©2021 Ben Greenman/Stupid Ideas
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