An Old Bird’s Reflection on the Age Gap

Everybody I know is so young.

If Hemingway was here, maybe lounging in the old recliner in my office, he’d say, “all you have to do is write one true sentence.”

That would be my one true sentence for the day.

I look at the one true sentence and I think – does it matter? And I think it does, but I don’t know how. I feel like an old bird who didn’t fly south for some reason and all the returnees are looking at me in the spring wondering how I weathered the weather and why. “She’s an old bird,” they’d say, and then tell me stories of their flights waiting for my laugh or commiseration, “Oh, I remember when I took that flight.”

So many flights.

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Photo by Pascal Mauerhofer on Unsplash