Click: true moments. Stories too short for the stage.
Crisp, windy day.
Riding the streetcar I see a woman in an electric wheelchair careening down the sidewalk, so fast she is almost a blur – long, gray hair streaming out behind her in the wind.
An old man barely keeps pace, just touching the handle as he runs full out, black suitcoat flapping.
And they are laughing. They are laughing with wild abandon.
That’s the kind of old I am going to be.
Photo Rick Payette
Musings and overheard conversations are posted every Monday and Wednesday on tyrtle.com.