Unexpectations. That’s what I call them. Experiences that one realizes will take place without any prior planning. You know they’re coming, but you don’t know why. And you didn’t know to expect them. I discovered, quite unexpectedly, that a woman I’ve met only once in the real world is visiting Hot Springs this weekend, along with her partner (what else does one call a male attachment one assumes is a lover…a lover?). Her daughter, I gather, is here, either as a resident or as a prospective resident. Here, being Hot Springs. Not the Village. The Village is a lifetime and 22 miles away. 

Anyway, I learned of the trip and suggested we get together. At the moment, we’re talking dinner with a huge entourage at McClard’s. I don’t know about that. I’d prefer SQZBX for pizza, but I nobody asked me. And McClard’s is by far better known for a long, long time. We’ll see. Isn’t it odd that someone from a lifetime ago can pop into the periphery of one’s life and suddenly seem important? I hope I can see Paula and her brood. If not, at least I’ll know I tried. As if that matters. Sometimes attempted connections make no difference. I once connected with someone else, a lifetime ago, and have never connected again, at least not in the same way. There’s still time, I guess. Or maybe not. 

About John Swinburn

"Love not what you are but what you may become."― Miguel de Cervantes
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