What if this cloud decided it was hungry for people? It descends from the sky where it lives and eats us? Just grabs us up and shovels us in to its cloud-mouth? I can see it. Can't you? Arms and legs flailing as we rise, and then we're chewed up and chomped on. Yum! Maybe it only eats adult humans. Maybe it only eats humans wearing a certain color. Who knows? Not me. The only thing I can say for certain is that it's right there, and it's watching us.  

Come in close.
A little bit of this, a little of that. 
Something becomes
else. Change
insists.
Time passes.
Planets spin. 

Where do you carry your deepest self? What's beneath the surface? How do you wrangle with reflection? Is there a fence or a stop sign? What's keeping you together? Does the red light blink on and off for you at night? Windows up or down? Circles or lines? Do you love playing with stickers like I do? I hope there are trees in your world. 

A very thoughtful woman gifted my mom these roses, making my mom so happy. I've met this woman a few times - her own mom lives on the other coast; she visits her as frequently as she's able. I understand some things about kindness and reciprocity and substitution and emotional rescue and just plain affection. And anyway, some people just touch us. And then we are moved, sparked into action by basic goodness. 

Someone grew these roses. Then along comes this woman, shopping, I imagine, for something else. She sees the roses, buys a bunch, and brings them to my mom in a vase she fills with water, then places on the sill and raises the blinds to the appropriate height so the vase sits comfortably.

"And she did it so quickly," my mom adds, forgetting how fast she used to move herself. 

There are loops in our lives. And hoops we jump through, some self-made, others out of our control. I remember when floss was too expensive. I remember when it was food for the cats or dinner (and that was before grad school). I remember how our grandma got my sister and me to go to the scary dentist (he wore bottle-thick glasses and didn't believe in x-rays) by taking out her teeth – finally we understood why she sounded funny at night during sleepovers. I love my dentist now. I love the techs who work with him, and the folks at the front desk who schedule my appointments, call with reminders, and take my money. I can afford this now. If this is luck, it's luck I worked hard for.