Children With Asthma and Good Mothers

I saw a little boy today. Actually, I never saw his face or his mother's face. She was reading him a book about proper inhaler use. She was patient and she had a kind, young, pretty voice. She was a mother.

I saw a little girl today. She was dancing while a blues band played rip-offs of The Fabulous Thunderbirds. A woman in a white dress got up and danced with her and held her hands and smiled with sunglasses atop her head and white sandals abellow her feet.

I saw a man who ate a salad alone, at a far off-table. Then he ate a pretzel and I never saw the man again. He probably got in his car and listened to some Jefferson Airplane.

It's amazing the things you can understand when you look at people. It's amazing the things you can understand when people look back at you.

Then we set out little French fries for the crows and they flew in, one by black and iridescent one, and gobbled them down like presh little fotatoes. I incidentally got some Nutella on my mother's doily that my grandmother had made. I bet my grandmother didn't even know what Nutella was when she made it. That's what occurred to me when I did this, so I immediately attempted to remove the Nutella. My poor grandmother would have thought it was chocolate, but it wasn't. It still bothers me.

But Houston will always bother me the most. And the things that we said there to each other.

It's funny how when you don't see someone for a while, they become unreal. They become something much less than human, something too obsolete. They become a word or a bother or a worry or a feeling. But they never become a name until you can hold their hand when you won't. It's not transitional either; they're just real one moment and unreal and real and unreal. I have a hard time regarding people as real people... When it echoes, they just become the echoes and not the origin, and that's a scary thing to have friends who are echoes. Because you can't hug an echo. And echoes cannot say anything that they are not programmed and taught to say; they will say what you say. And friends who agree are not friends at all.