killing time


        It is Sunday morning.  The library doesn’t open until 1 PM.  I sit on a bench in the little memorial park adjacent to the library.

In Memory Of Thomas Iparaguirre Public Works Employee April 19, 1977 – February 6, 1995

        Eighteen years old.  Sad.  I wonder how he died.  I get out my iPhone and I google the plaque.  No results shown.  Well, they built him a nice gazebo here.  Nice deep shade.  It’s getting hot in the sun.  Supposed to be 99 today.   I used to sweat like a pig when I only weighed 150 pounds.  I hope this doesn’t take long.

        I tied my little Pit Bull Dulcinea to this bench. She’s in heaven rolling in the clover patch in the grass.  You can see in the green where the lawn sprinklers soak the most.  The zones outside the bright green…

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