By: Laura K.

One night, coming out of the Mexican restaurant a block away from my old high school, present/future me sees past/present me.

We make eye contact, so I wave. I wave back.

Where to start…prom date? Colleges? Career advice?

So much to share. Aysha, brilliant and gorgeous. Holding the twins. Sunset in Cape Town. Buy Apple!

But… Divorcing Rebecca. Will’s death. Unemployment.

So I shake my head, smiling ruefully.  

I nod; I understand. But! I have to know. I raise my hand in an “OK” gesture, eyebrows raised. “…?”

A pause. I nod, and smile reassuringly.

We pass on.

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