Five years ago, today, Clay died. I didn't know him very long, but his passing had a staggering impact. It wasn't really the idea of his death that struck me the hardest, although it was very devastating, but the reminder of how fleeting life really is; I suppose that's probably synonymous with dying, but to me, it isn't. I had a conversation with Dyan and Chatty today about not remembering anything from my year as a 19 year old. Not a particle of memory left from that year.
I stared out the window. I could see clouds raking the pinnacles of the tall pine trees and the placidly noiseless bay. Chatty tinkered with her phone, and Dyan sipped her chai latte. I'm 26 now. My cup wafted with espresso, and this was a metaphor.
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