This morning I woke up suddenly, my head still full of strange dreams, with Eleanor tearing out of the bedroom, shrieking, en route to solitary morning adventuredom.
This morning I woke up, already wondering how Monday was/is gonna go.
This morning we arose, broke bread briskly, then drove north, to Palisades Park, where fern gullies, ferocious mongrels, and mute Indian mounds lay in wait.
Today I woke up thinking of Flicker.
This morning I looked at Janelle and, referring to La Vida En General, said, "This ain't easy, is it?"
---------------------------------------------------
Ella runs the show.
Ella is my showboat.
Ella rants at break of day, and breaks sorrow into two even halves - tosses them both to Claudia Rankine, genius who never built a rabbit box.
Ella is her mama and me and some mystery besides.
Ella binds what's right and puts it in my gut.
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