As you gaze at green mallards and their single-parent families, you let go. It’s so painless at the end of the day. And there’s so much beauty, born again in your own face, permeating the friendly halves of other people. Your senses are honed. You rediscover the sun, whose light shines all around you and falls over exteriors like geometric shapes at rest. I don’t see how this state of being can be normal. If it were, I might not be so shocked by everyone’s eagerness to go on living day after day. But nothing can possibly be so long-lasting. The future awaits, a deer stopped on a country road.
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