Thursday.

Day is spent learning that Thanksgiving sure ain't what it used to be. This year I did not fashion any handprint turkeys neatly traced & cut from sheets of brown and orange construction paper. None of that. This year, sitting at the dinner table with Mom and Dad, am dumbstruck by how evident it is - the movement of time. How it is ever accelerating. How my parents are getting old. That they are grandparents. That they will be gone all too soon. Much too rapidly.

Friday.

Visit with BHS alumuni. PS tells most hilarious stories re: the locker disaster incident on very last day of junior high. Dinner and we eschew turkey leftovers for chinese food. My fortune:

Saturday.

It is during the cab ride that the fog suddenly becomes really thick. It drifts across midtown streets and fills a deco granite lobby. Pink stone and mist. It gathers in an elevator with a gentlemanly operator who already knows our floor. It rolls and banks along hallways dimly lit with recessed lanterns. Stop at #8. A heavy brass lever opens the door. Fog spills from the doorway. Moving forward, vision tunnels soft white, closing. The air inside rooms is nearly opaque...