Weird Thursday

This morning, on the car radio, a voice called today a weird Thursday. I knew it was true. 

I could feel change occurring in full effect like I am surfing down a landslide. I'm already beyond the sting of it and can sense somewhere in that tangle of dread and defeat the spark of possibility. 

Having made it over the roll of wire at the top of a high fence, here now is the wild thrill and danger of running at top speed across open ground still well within range of the machine gun in the tower. A glimpse of freedom. 

Keenly aware of the utter strangeness.

A patient approached me outside the nurse's station and put a small transistor radio in my shirt pocket. She took my hand and we walked the length of the unit together. At the door, she gracefully let go of my hand and I departed. 

Later, I opened a birthday card while sitting in my car. It was adorned with Marvel super heroes and had arrived nearly a month early. The message written inside was indecipherable. A secret code sent to a very special little boy from someone who knew him when.