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What a very long time one had to be an adult, after rushing through childhood and adolescence.
Maybe that was the trick to life: to notice all the tiny moments in the day when everything else fell away and, for a split second, or maybe even a few seconds, you had no worries, only pleasure, only appreciation of what was right in front of you. Transcendental meditation, maybe, but with hot dogs and the knowledge that everything would change, the good and the bad, and so you might as well appreciate the good.
Happy endings were too much for some people, false and cheap, but hope—hope was honest. Hope was good.
