fiction
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At age 73, I had a near heat stroke at an outside family event a couple days ago. Suddenly my head was pounding, my heart rate jumped well beyond the norm, my own voice echoed in my ears every time I tried to speak and my blood pressure spiked. Of course, I joked with those
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I still see him stepping off the puddled curb in front of my office—tall, neatly pressed suit, worn leather briefcase in one hand, a faint sheen of Pacific Northwest drizzle curling his collar. He was an actuary, and anyone who’s met one knows they spend their early professional years locked away under the harsh glare
Old Man Pondering 