Diana and Patty talk of taking power trash walks after eating too many just desserts. The waistline, unforgiving, ever expanding like the universe. Power trash? I'm flummoxed by the image of power trash>
They explain: we pick up trash and you be amazed by what we find by the side of the road. Maybe we should write about it, says Diana.
The thought leaves me shuttering all. All day long I've been doing math and thinking symbolically. Nothing symbolic about used rubbers and other detritus by the side of the road.
Was it divisible in the night? Once we were all young, reckless, eager to get on with it no thoughts of expanding waistlines. Catholic, or otherwise…
The road is indeed long, only we've shortened it by walking down it from this end. We can see the end approaching and suddenly all that glitter distracts us and we are yet for its lost treasure, for lost youth, isn't divisible by time.
What was the answer?
2/13/2004 Writers' Group
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