my sweaty wrists

there is an old lady in the corner most pocket of her grass.
squirt bottle in hand. she is hunched over. i think this must be killing her as i think about the pain in my lower back as i jog. the lady does not move. her gray hair falls over her face. i don't know if she is pretty. or was. she is fixated on the smallest little weed in the smallest part of her yard. she won't stop drenching it.

the scene ends when i run out of sight.
i look down at the gravel smearing by. the tight burn of my quads come to mind and i decide to look up. i look up even more and soak in the most righteous blue sky.
the clouds are a fluff of pure white.
they're rounded and bubbly like in the photos.

i take in the tree just yards ahead of me. i think of how hard i would laugh if every leaf and every pokey ball on that tree would fall on me as i ran under it.
as if my left tennis shoe would trigger the button to release.
i giggle at the thought.

i think of using the word acute in describing something with that lady with the squirt bottle.
i think of how much i love that word. acute. i don't use it enough.
it makes me think of another A word. Adjacent. i like that one too.
i remember learning the word adjacent in 6th grade vocab.
i love vocabulary.
i love writing
reading
maybe this is why. and when i read i love new words. i love reading the sentence and having to figure out what it means.
and hopefully not having to refer to wiki.
which makes me think of turn tables.
which makes me think of fruit.

its mile 6 and i lengthen my stride to get this over with.
i consider the song in my ears. "she says i want you, just exactly like i use to. cuz baby this is all only bringin me down"
i think that i could pull a forest gump. i think, i've always wanted to go to seattle. so i push forward. i smile. i realize that my mouth is closed and i dont have to gasp for air. i realize im in better shape than i figured.
but instead of running due north to seattle, i hang a left at the gas station.

and again, there is the oldest lady i have ever seen standing on her 3x5 porch. she is staring into a flower pot. she is so close to the flower pot. the grumpiest, most sad face. i bet she just wishes the flower would grow. as if her angered stares would make a difference.
i smile again at this.

i collect the spit in my mouth and turn to the side. somehow it finds its way down my shirt. and i silently curse.

right now my sweat is about to give me the chills.
the point of this was to share a clip from the book i just finished reading.
the most amazing book ever.
im so in love with it.
i am also really sad that it had to end. i wish it would go on forever.
its the kind of book that has the most fabulous one liners. i am going to read through it again and highlight it. note the words i love. i could make the best cut up poem.

SO heres the clip::

With my eyes closed, I ask if she knows how this will all turn out.
"Long-term or short-term?" she asks.
Both.
"Long-term," she says, "we're all going to die. Then our bodies will rot. No surprise there. Short-term, we're going to live happily ever after."
Really?
"Really," she says. "So don't sweat it."
I look at myself getting older in the heart-shaped mirror.
A sign goes by the window saying, Drive or Stay Alive.
A sign goes by the window saying, Speed Checked by Radar.
A sign goes by the window saying, Lights On for Safety.
Fertility says, "Can you just relax and let things happen?"
I ask, does she mean, like disasters, like pain, like misery? Can i just let all that happen?
"And Joy," she says, "and Serenity, and Happiness, and Contentment." she says all the wings of the Columbia Memorial Mausoleum. "You don't have to control everything, " she says. "You can't control everything."
But you can be ready for disaster.
A sign goes by saying, Buckle up.
"If you worry about disaster all the time, that's what you're going to get," Fertility says.