Time

Two thousand years seems forever. Four billion even more forever. I am a mere blink.

I never imagined the real retirement. I easily fell into the safety net of my apartment. Days go by and I see no one. My little world offers security.

Occasionally the gang of little girls rings my doorbell to tattle-tale on each other. And, of course, the man in brown rings my doorbell about twice a month. My friend calls me almost daily, so contact exists. But I find for the most part this interaction fills my quota.

I am thankful for what wisdom I have. I do not believe I am one of P.T. Barnum's folks like so many seem. Then again, I did not avoid a fatal flaw or two of my own.

I have time now. What am I doing?

Later, Dude.