Jan 29, 2004
I faced some monsters. I don't suppose that makes me a hero. But sometimes the hero gets his mantle by just showing up on reckoning day and then being able to walk away from the fracas. In that case, I am a hero several times over. In recent days, I faced longstanding fears and harrowing responsibilities -- grown aged and stiff from the perpetual shirking -- and the voracious, dark maw of what might happen. And I lived to tell the tale. In the cold of winter, surviving is a prize.
posted by Mary Forrest at 6:55 PM | Back to Monoblog