Today, Calmer Half and I got out in the sun for a walk. It was only about a quarter mile, up and down the road, and my lungs wouldn't have taken another fifty feet - but I'm feeling well enough to feel housebound. This is progress! The sun was shining, air calm, birds singing, squirrels scampering, old dogs sprawled in the yard and not even bothering to lift a head as we toddled by.
As we walked along the road, we saw fourteen cents and a pair of nail clippers scattered on the ground. I eyed it, and contemplated if stooping to pick up abandoned money would be worth the coughing fit that bending would trigger. Looking over at Calmer Half, I saw the most disturbed look on his face, as his eyes scanned the quiet suburb intently, hand hovering over the pocket that hangs heavy.
"Love?" I couldn't figure that one out. He looked over at me, and grimaced.
"I'm used to things like that being left in the street so the target will stay still long enough for the sniper to get a good shot." He squeezed my hand in a vague apology.
"Ah, but you're in America now." We toddled on, leaving the coins, and the past, behind.
"I love this country."
"I love you."