No More Reminiscences
Recently I started taking pictures of clouds. I don’t know why, but I did. Not striking, ominous, storm clouds, but single, puffy white clouds surrounded by blue sky. You know, bows and flows of angel hair, and ice cream castles in the air, and feathered canyons everywhere? Those clouds.
While I can’t tell you what the correlation is, I’m sure it has something to do with death. My own death, of course — not death in general, or your death.
Maybe some psychiatrist will read this and explain the connection.
(I doubt it.)