I was toodling home from the gym today, all pumped up and full of endorphins, when I noticed a roadside shrine, you know, flowers and pictures and notes taped to a telephone pole by the side of the street. And that always makes me kind of sad/mad/scared. Especially this one, that is right around the corner from my house, on the street that I go up and down every single blasted day. Part of me wondered how anyone could get going fast enough on that street to kill themselves. So perhaps no one actually died. But then, I have never seen one of these monuments for someone who bumped their head or broke their pelvis. No, of course someone left the planet. Another part of me was really indignant that they should do that so close to ME. Oh, I am so not well yet. It is all about me, still. Ouch. It reminded me of that night a couple of summers ago, coming home from a dinner party and getting all balled up because that very same street was all blocked off with a feeding frenzy of emergency vehicles. How rude! And the next day, finding out a young woman lost her life there. They just recently stopped putting flowers at that site. What a life this is. And how soon it can be gone. Right around the corner.
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