Monday, July 4, 2011

Piggyback Ride Through Time and Space

I am eight years old. I am at a picnic. It is our family reunion. I am wearing a green sweatshirt.

The other children and I play hide and seek, and hopscotch, and tag. It is great fun.

Uncle Bart  comes over to me. He has a big, fluffy moustache and is wearing overalls.

"Hey, sport," he asks me, "how about a piggyback ride?"

"Yeah!" I scream, and he lifts me up upon his shoulders. I take his baseball cap and wear it.

He runs forward as I hold on tight.

Suddenly everything becomes a blur; the ground, sky, and sunlight stretch out into infinity.

Moments later I am forty-five years old. I am in front of my workplace.

It is a multinational advertising firm. It is a skyscraper in New York City.

I am wearing my usual suit and tie. I am sitting on the sidewalk.

Underneath me is Uncle Bart's shattered skeleton. 

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