i started down the elevator from the 15th floor and oh shit i forgot my phone i stopped at the 13th floor oh shit there it is in the left pocket i start down again oh shit i forgot my keys i stop at the 12th floor walk up and say it's so late i have to take the bike, thankfully, as my feet are so fragile i walk like a mummy, but fragile like life. the walk would have destroyed my fragile soles. the wind was so hard on the boulevard we had to turn back before the park. i wanted to picture mister making snow dog angels in the drifting snow, beautiful.
 

mister didn't mind, though when we walked by his house he headed down the gangway ready for home. as a kid my sense of adventure would have peaked and we'd have gone all the way to the raging lake. even more recently, the kid would have been awakened, and we would have braved the elements. but the fungus is another storm, and the kid is lost inside, or the kid is gone, grown old like the skin that was new yesterday.