With both feet on the floor
and sitting on the bed, his belly between his legs, Old Bob wondered where everything went.
“It didn’t used to be this way,” he said to himself.
“I used to be easy to find my things. I could find them and show them off. Now, I haven’t seen anything in a couple of years. From what I can tell, they aren’t even the same things. It’s as if they’re not even mine. It’s as if my things are leaving the planet before I am. By the time I die, I won’t have a thing.”
Old Bob shrugged. Looked out the window, then at his crusty bare feet.
“On the other hand,” he thought, “I don’t need so much anymore. I could probably find a hug. A sunny day. You come to a time in life when you don’t need things the way you used to.”
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Kisses.