This short run I do every day, trying to adopt it into my after-dinner routine, has played out successfully the way I wanted for a week now.
As I jog in the woods, I notice how green and beautiful everything is on this spring day. From behind moss-covered tree trunks, a woman younger than me emerges unexpectedly. She strolls gently, looking up, her gaze fixed on the rustling leaves. As her head tilts upward and then turns toward me, she gazes at the ground, her lips pressed tightly together, motionless, her face pale and passive.
She walks quietly past me, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to slow down, just long enough for me to stare at her face and realize I have just met my old self. She moved past me as if I weren't there.
Her expression embodies my past, not so distant from who I am now.
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