"What the heck is this?" my sweetie asked. He was lying prone on the kitchen floor, peering under the refrigerator. "Give me something long."
I handed him some extra-long chopsticks.
"No, longer."
I handed him the fire poker from underneath the wood stove.
"It's brown. Ugh. What is this?" He held up a mummified pomegranate.
"Well, that's been there for at least a year," i said. "I only buy pomegranates for winter solstice, so...."
"A year? How about twenty?" he asked.
The old year dies today. All of us cheer "Hooray! Goodbye 2020. We are done with you. Goodbye. We can hardly wait to see the backside of this COVID year."
Another year of my life has gone. Everything i cherish will change and vanish. I cherish my life, and one year of it has vanished. I can see/feel the moments vanishing as i type these words. Each moment arising and passing, faster than i can say "pomegranate."
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