Adults

My love of reading began when I was four, listening to my father read aloud to my mother. Then the war came just as I started reading on my own. Books became so rare that I cried when one ended, unsure when I would find another. Decades later, working in a U.S. public library, each time I give a child a free book to join the book club, I envy them.

Mom yelled in peak traffic, “You can’t go through this alley. Bars at the other end will block rickshaws!” How she knew this, how we’d get out, who knew? But our unflinching charioteer steered on like Lord Krishna, guiding a confused, doubtful Arjun through the treacherous Kurukshetra. Indeed, just one wide gap opened up, and we zoomed right through. India: the wonder and the honks; the path found by trusting collective wisdom. 

Doggy gal pals Magenta and Chloe became friends on their own. No humans involved. From her porch, Chloe woofed “hi” to Magenta as she walked by. Magenta yipped hello and pulled Leah, her human, to the chain-link fence in the back so the puppy friends could sniff each other. Chloe dug a hole until their paws could reach. The pups knew friendship instantly. Humans took longer to figure it out.

Magenta is a dog and Louie is a cat. They aren’t friends, but these pets are good neighbors. Magenta likes the soft, warm lawn at Louie’s house. The grass feels good under her paws when she stretches out, the sun soothing her back. When Louie escapes his house, he explores the trees, bushes and deck at Magenta’s house and hides. It’s an adventure for him; a worry for his humans.

I'm at the end, my life a failure. So upon the stool I stand, thick rope cinched around my throat, knot centered before my hyoid bone, and whisper a prayer for the dying. I step off ….
The millisecond of pain barely registers.
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Upon horseback, we approach Castle Shadow. For a moment, another life flashes before mine eyes. I whisper a prayer for the dying; lead the warriors forward at a fierce trot.
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