We tend to forget whole sagas of ourselves. Either they get pushed away, or there is an ever so subtle change in focus and they drift, leaving behind some residue of opinion on the matter. Then one day, in a sudden, inescapable, and inconvenient moment...
Pulling up to the house of the sector Feast, it is early evening and the sunlight has faded just enough that the rich colors of this quaint Albuquerque neighborhood can challenge the tyranny of the dominant sunlight. Looking towards the door of the house, a small Indian lady with a warm smile is greeting people at the door. Planning to return the smile, I find her vaguely familiar, too vague and too familiar for comfort. Hmm, The moment has passed. I greeted her, but my thoughts were distant and my expression was probably blank. I walk in to a crowd full of people, some familiar, some vague...
Some people just give you an instant impression. As I look outside through the sliding glass door, I see what should be a normal middle aged man moving a chair and doing other normal things. But part of me knows that there is some issue with him, he seems to be avoiding the crowd. I can definetely relate to the social anxiety. There is something about his posture that...
Oh my God! Wait, could it be...(sigh) it is. And that was his mom. Oh my God, this can't be real. That has to be him.