The Look

It’s the look, when we’re not too close to turn back but both of us know neither will, when you say “what are you going to do now?” with an air of provocation, mischief, and the slightest hint of unknowing. You’re grinning, but I know you need the reassurance of the next moment as much as I do. 

It’s the look of being right here, just where we are, that catches the breath in my throat and pulls  me back in towards perfect presence. I live out a thousand possible outcomes without leaving my house in a day and nothing compares to being myself, in this body, in this moment.

It’s the look that reminds me more than anything of riding my cart through the parking lot – too old to be feeling like this and too young to care. It’s not the store exit strategy for everyone, but pure, harmless bliss nonetheless. I’m lighter than I have been in maybe forever. I feel their stares and I’ve never been less concerned with the way I thought things were supposed to be.

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