Hints Of Mortality

You know you are getting old when you run into a friend in the supermarket health food section. She is carting six boxes of gluten-free flour and your child is eating organic dried apples. You used to be wild, and so did this friend. As in, proper wild. As in, she can tell you a story featuring skis, a European black run and hallucinogens.

So far, so middle-aged.  But then you try and read the fine print on a packet of carob buttons and you both fish your reading glasses off the top of your heads.

Autumn years, I feel your gentle beckoning. But how will it all play out, I wonder?

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