This past Sunday evening was warm and balmy enough to take the dog on a proper walk. The neighborhood flickered awake in a magical Harry Potter kind of way. Nighttime in my ‘hood reveals a secret world unseen in the sunlight.
A tipsy, skinny woman pet my dog and told me she was moving soon and hopefully in her new home she can have a dog and anyway until such a time her ten year old cat better live forever because she loves him the most and YOUR DOG IS SO PRETTYYYYY.
And the Boo Radley house marched on with its recently launched campaign of faux respectability, this time leaving the back porch light on like it doesn’t have ghosts inside, yeah right. (I haven’t told you about the Boo Radley house yet, have I? I’ll get to that soon…)
And at the tail-wagging end of the jaunt, in the middle of the BP parking log, a woman who looked just like “Phyllis” on “The Office” pulled up next to us in her shiny new Yaris and squealed at my dog.
“Can I take a picture of her?”
“Sure,” I said.
Phyllis pulled out an iPhone with a pink plastic cover, and snapped a landscape picture from eight feet away and that was good enough for her.
And then as if to justify the picture she said, “I have a dachshund, too!” Then she giggled to herself about that happy fact and drove into the McDonald’s drive thru.
That's my piece, and that's my peace. Thank you so much for taking the time to read my silly words. It truly means the world to me. Carry on...