One hundred days ago I was half-done drinking a beer and thinking about drinking the rest of it and then getting another or another ten. Instead, I poured the beer out and I have not opened another.
My niece looked at me yesterday. She burst into tears. She fled the room, as she was unable to bear the sight of me. She is dramatically prejudiced. She is prejudiced against people with beards. I am no longer a person with a beard.
I have never liked the sight of my face, but once upon a forest I must have been young enough to laugh with delight at my visage rippling in a mirror or a pool of water. I knew how to smile at the sight of my reflection once. What else have I forgotten?
My niece looked at me yesterday. She burst into tears. She fled the room, as she was unable to bear the sight of me. She is dramatically prejudiced. She is prejudiced against people with beards. I am no longer a person with a beard.
I have never liked the sight of my face, but once upon a forest I must have been young enough to laugh with delight at my visage rippling in a mirror or a pool of water. I knew how to smile at the sight of my reflection once. What else have I forgotten?
