I walked two miles on the Senior Center track this morning in 29:43.
While walking, I heard a songwriter on NPR say something about having "nowhere to go" at some pivotal moment in his life, and the writer in me responded with a thought that went something like, "When you have nowhere to go, you can go anywhere you want."
Now I'm working on an angle for a retrospective closing chapter of A Different Closet, one a bit like the final few pages of Ian McEwan's On Chesil Beach.
We'll see.
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