First Anniversary-ish

Today's my parents' anniversary. The first one with both of them deceased. In honor of the occasion, one of my sisters sent us all a classic photo of the two of them.

It is one of the nicest photos of the two of them. I kept it on a table in the kitchen for many years.

When Mom had to stay with us for a few weeks during the pandemic, we would walk out of the kitchen and past the photo at bedtime. She would pull over, and pause to turn it face down.

Every 

Single

Day.

And that's what I see when I look at this photo. 

I also see heads. My parents had heads.

Prompt 347, About Senses

Prompt 347

On a Friday in the coldest summer since 1999

I do Pilates over zoom with my friend and trainer, with me in my tiny home office and her in Nevada. She gives me an excellent laugh, describing how she and others on her "I'm moving to Henderson" group responded to someone asking whether there was at least a cooling breeze in the evenings. For those not in the know, apparently it's like living in a convection oven. Also described as "The day is like pointing a blowdryer at yourself on high and night is like pointing a blowdryer at yourself on low." I ended our time together with more energy, less gas, and a reminder that she appreciates all of my weird stuff and I'm to leave it to her when I die. "Just put the clown shoes by the front door".

I drink the leftover coffee. I wish it were hotter but am too lazy to walk ten steps to the microwave.

The sound of a train in the distance -- it's blowing its horn as it moves through our city. I love the sound of a train so much that mrguy and I used to listen to train records when we were first together. "Steam or diesel?" we'd say, choosing an appropriate sound for the occasion.

A week later, I'm cleaning up this text and hear a loud train horn in the distance.