I walked to the bar for a solitary celebration and ended up having three Red Right Hands, my favorite cocktail in that particular establishment. On the way there, I had the time and head space to notice lilacs blooming and to sniff them. On the way back, a small group of Jewish boys on scooters asked me if they could film me saying happy birthday to their Rabbi. Their plan was to find 39 more men willing to do the same.
I tried to walk slower and to remember to live. When I reached the top of the hill, the sun was an orange ball sitting on the horizon. I thought of you and how we've changed.
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