Washed Out Purple

Posted on December 19, 2004 in Routine Travels - So Cal

I was quiet during my Christmas visit with my mother today. While she went on about the election, her only grandchild, the gifts she’d purchased for us, the mental condition of various relatives, and who was dying of what, I stared out of the window of the San Bernardino Mimi’s at the distant San Gabriels, washed-out purple in the late afternoon light. I had no news to share with her. Lynn handled the conversation. I enjoyed the alabaster emptiness of my own mind and let her wonder if I was going prematurely senile.