Visiting Familiar Patterns

There’s this thing about living in a small town, where…life sort of has some shortcuts.

In this particular town, for instance, if I want to see people, I can pretty much just go to this one coffee shop downtown, and just…sit there. Eventually I will see…virtually every single person that I want to visit in town.

It’s just one of those things. (Read: it’s the kid-friendliest place downtown, and also the place that is open latest, so, you start going there when you’re young, and when you’re older, it’s the only option, so you keep going there. It’s extremely efficient in terms of business management.

I’ve been visiting people like mad, and it’s been beautiful and crazy and exhausting.


Anyway. I was walking  out of this coffee shop, after a very full day of seeing people and catching up on things, and I was thinking that I’ve really gotten pretty much everyone on my list of “folks to see”, and then, one of the people whose name was written in bold and underlined on my list of “folks to see”…was driving into the parking lot.

She recognized me, and threw a beautiful titanic-style handprint onto the inside of her car window, because it wasn’t rolling down fast enough, and she wanted to make sure that I saw her.

I love my friends. I’m pretty sure that they’re some of the best people in the world. Every one of them. They’re just all so fantastically beautiful, all the time.


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