As much as I might claim otherwise, I sometimes find myself ‘drifting’ through days – life and memories, back and forth between the past and present, and quite often into an improbable future.
At times, my absence is hardly noticed; at others, the person to miss my presence most is me.
Mornings are my favorite time for traveling.
In the hour it takes me to get to work, I can traverse years, miles and lifetimes. There are no calls to make, so I drive without much distraction, often arriving at work with no clear remembrance of passing the post office or picking up coffee. Some might call it multi-tasking of another kind altogether.
It’s what I do, and suspect I’m not alone in my comings and goings.
Yet now and again, I am pulled from my reverie by the most unlikely of culprits. One such diversion is a dear friend I call Red. Red is a…