Walking Home

I pass this window every Mon., Wed., Fri. after my swim.
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She had an impressive bell collection. An entire case full of them, in addition to the smaller display you see on the wall above Jesus. Near the end of her life, I got her one that was decorated with an animal of some sort, liberated from a souvenir shop at the San Diego Zoo. It was dutifully delivered to her hospital bed in Georgia by her grandson (whom I was dating at the time) and added to her army of ringers.

Like a solider preparing for battle. Or perhaps more like a deep sea diver gearing up for the big plunge…some of us rely on a few certain items for the journey into the world of dreams.
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It’s that time of year again, with the gray settling in and the sky taking on a more somber hue. Indian summer should be right around the corner here in San Francisco.