RANDOMLY in Postcards 4

I am considering the old woman’s visage I see staring back at me from the mirror. Who is this old woman who looks back at me? I do wish I could discuss it all with Dixie, but she is dead, or Bobbie. She is at the Venice Biennale. Such a logical answer. I know it’s the side effects of the medication. Or perhaps one of the falls I took yesterday. I took two falls yesterday. Falls will do that to you.

I was rolling down a slightly angled street, hit the power cords for a giant air handling machine, and over I went….machine and all. Not at all slowly. The second time, there was this same rush of men to pick me up, to dust me off, but the voices all seemed accusatory.