What Do Any Of Us

When A Reader Finishes A Wonderful Story And Lays It Aside, He Should Have To Pause For A Minute And Collect Himself.

My Life Is Going To Change. I Feel It.

That Was In Crescent City, California, Up Near The Oregon Border. I Left Soon After. But Today I Was Thinking Of That Place, Of Crescent City, And Of How I Was Trying Out A New Life There With My Wife, And How, In The Barber's Chair That Morning, I Had Made Up My Mind To Go. I Was Thinking Today About The Calm I Felt When I Closed My Eyes And Let The Barber's Fingers Move Through My Hair, The Sweetness Of Those Fingers, The Hair Already Starting To Grow.

Life And Death Matters, Yes. And The Question Of How To Behave In This World, How To Go In The Face Of Everything. Time Is Short And The Water Is Rising.

But I Can Hardly Sit Still. I Keep Fidgeting, Crossing One Leg And Then The Other. I Feel Like I Could Throw Off Sparks, Or Break A Window--maybe Rearrange All The Furniture.