Age

There are days that I see a wiry coarse gray hair curling up and out into the air from my scalp separating itself from my dark brown hair and I can actively feel my insides decaying.

But then there are days that I’m sitting on a patio sipping rosé and I see a beautiful woman in jean cutoffs with gray hair piled on top of her head, smile lines running down her face, holding the hand of a child trying to scooter down the sidewalk with a rocket pop melting down his little arm and she’s the coolest thing on this block.

And I think I would be so lucky to have that future.