Death Hour

  This used to be a casual walk, but no more. Become a parent and you’ll develop a new fear of the mundane. I used to walk for miles at four in the morning, three in the morning with Spencer Mills, and Joeseph Zaccaria - my favorite walks. But now these people are dead to me. When I was a young adult I swore the night sky was black, plain black. Now I see it is inky and blue like a velvet curtain, like purple royalty and I a peasant. All my friends want to be kings. I used to want to be king. Now I don’t trust them. Now there are smells, complex: an electric fire? a skunk? or burning garlic? All these things are ten years old. Don’t fear for me, instead be gracious. Be humble, and prayerful.