Back in this time without television, movie theaters, and rock concerts, public speeches were exciting and entertaining, and, for the country town of Gettysburg, likely very rare. People would ride for hours, perhaps even days to hear someone.
We read fiction to watch people overcome their struggles. We enjoy tragic moments, because they are purposeful and developmental. Pain can drive a character or a plot to something complex and important.
Suddenly there are more things on my face that could go wrong. Is my mascara giving me a black eye? Did my lipstick make friends with my teeth? Does my eyeliner make me look like King Tut?
It’s a strange, rewarding experience to be surprised in your own home. There are small things: stores that never close, kindness from absolute strangers, the harsh omnipotence of air conditioning, incredibly friendly, sometimes overbearing customer service.
Millie is on the couch, looking sweet as can be. I go to scratch her little kitty ears and I see a look of deranged obsession come into her eyes. She. Must. Bite.
My future girlfriend laughed. After that, I probably didn’t say anything for the rest of the time at the table. I had peaked with that joke, already canonized in my head, replaying it over and over in my mind.
His work didn’t stop, even if the rain did. After a moment’s breath of rain-washed air and a sigh from the depth of his soul, he grabbed the umbrella and closed the door behind him.
The hum of tires on the road and the whoosh of other cars passing and the thump of bumpy highways has a way of drowning out the chatter of everyday life and transporting us smoothly to blessed vacation.
Costas is a short man with bright brown eyes, a salt-and-pepper beard. He dresses in long pants with a plaid button up tucked into a high waistband. Sensible walking shoes.
Dust off your old road bike, strap on some new tennis shoes, and buy some arm floaties if you need to! There is still plenty of time to prepare for your summer triathlon and secure the love of your life.
