This morning when the five o’clock alarm chimed I was mostly awake. My hands, relatively unarthritic before summer began, ached and were stiff. My right index finger did its spring-loaded trick: it unfurls a bit, catches, and then with additional force switchblades into straightness.
I don’t want to be one of those old people who focuses on his infirmities. It will take vigilance: today I do.
many elders are at sea
oleo or e f g
dimmer mort conturbs at me