Sunday

Now the back of my knees are pink and I have a small ache behind my brow but earlier I spent happy hours in the gallant sunlight with the merriest of friends. Ate terrific sausages and drank cocktails made with egg whites. Sampled vodka in a hangar on an old naval base. Sat on a teal velveteen couch and preened for a camera. Lake lounged on a yellow blanket with cheese and unread books.

Driving over the San Mateo bridge in the dusk,  towards the plated neighborhood luminaries in the near distance and the saturated blue of the hills of the horizon, is like being ushered into the breast pocket of the bay area.

An asprin and aloe will tuck me in.

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