The Day of the Dead

Today, as I was walking down the hill, an old man of about 63 was walking up. He carried three plastic bags in one hand and a roll of paper towels in another. Almost instinctively, I started thinking about the 63 years of his life. I thought about his childhood, his parents, his first day of high school, his graduation. I thought about how he didn’t enjoy his first job but kept with it because it was a way of making ends meet. I'm guessing he quit and found a new job a few years later. He also probably met a young girl at his new work place and the two of them fell madly in love. They got married, had 3 children and now all 3 of their children are working out of state. I bet that’s when he decided to move here with his wife. And that was why he was here, carrying 3 plastic bags in one hand and a roll of paper towels in another.


I wondered to myself, did November always smell like ash?