I am walking home from work. Fat raindrops spot the pavement and I put my collar up and pull my coat close against the night. I feel alert and ready, I have enough energy to run a mile without stopping or sculpt a monument from a marble block. The people I pass on the street look relaxed or tired or content. I smile to myself and cannot stop. There is a solid foundation within me, supporting my sides and everything else: my heart, lungs, liver and stomach. I can build and plan, if I dare.
I feel like a hot air balloon: giddy and buoyant and ready to take off. I can almost hear the whoosh of the gas burner, filling the envelope with heated air, enough heated air to lift the gondola from the ground. My footsteps are light, tethering me to the pavement, taking me home.
The rain comes down harder, running through my hair and down the sides of my face; I keep walking. I know it will clear soon.
I feel like a hot air balloon: giddy and buoyant and ready to take off. I can almost hear the whoosh of the gas burner, filling the envelope with heated air, enough heated air to lift the gondola from the ground. My footsteps are light, tethering me to the pavement, taking me home.
The rain comes down harder, running through my hair and down the sides of my face; I keep walking. I know it will clear soon.
Hello, my name is Jack Sparrow. I'm a 50 year old self-employed Pirate from the Caribbean.
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