In Their 30s the Jokes Keep Coming
Of course he will live to be 90 and she 100; everyone knows men die earlier. Of course his ghost will visit during those 10 years, and they joke about whether he’ll boldly announce himself or just hint. The blue kintsugi bowl moved a few inches, a missing sock appearing on the couch, the rocker rocking on a windless night. They joke about how he’ll look. Goofy Halloween ghost in a white sheet? Misty shape helping her kayak? (Of course she’ll still kayak.) Nothing scary, he promises. They forget to joke about uncertainty. About how the ocean is always hungry.
Photo Credit: Leah Borchert
I enjoyed the unique conversation – I’d never heard anyone discuss this before – and intriguing last line.