I get paid to observe and one day I’ll spend my savings.

Last night, while adults courted at Guiseppe’s Italian Dining & Cafe, Chad M told me about Maria Marinelli, a niece of the owner, Mike or Raffaele Misciagna.

Earlier in the day, an Air Force veteran and her business associate arranged some flowers at their establishment, the Petal Pusher.

Linda at Kohl’s had brushed her hair and looked 15 years younger.

At Miss Bea’s, sweet tea and pulled candy sat while the workers stood and talked with us away from washing dishes.

Melissa delivered flowers to my mother in-law’s room. Myra, Elizabeth, Debbie, Pauline and Bellamina smiled while they kept patients healthy.

Immigration legal status is a matter of perspective. Feeling invited or welcome is a matter of community generosity.

A whooping crane, whale or leatherback turtle cannot be sentenced, fined and jailed.

I played with children in my neighbourhood when I was a child allowed to go outside and play.

What of the children whose parents discouraged unsupervised neighbourhood gatherings of youth?

What are those grownup boxed-in kids doing today?

Do they discourage unlawful migration of children to more prosperous opportunities to play?

What do you hold sacred?

Do you preserve history at all costs even when you know history is a fable written about the few for the masses?

A candle on a birthday cupcake from Gigi’s given to me by my wife, the two of us celebrating quietly, she lit the candle while she listened on the mobile phone, whispering to me a line from “Happy Birthday,” and I blew out the candle, eating the little cake alone.

The hermit’s life is here and now. My fabled history is completed.

The rest is happy silence, watching my species compete/cooperate for personal space.