
Alone, the family jewel My mother has been dead years now. She loved to sit alone in the sun near a pool or beach, work on her tan, read her book. Forty years later, I am alone at the beach hiding under an umbrella, reading and writing, when my dead mother walks up to me, to tell me how awful my handwriting is, then she walks off to read her book, work on her tan, and be dead alone.
© SB Joy, 2022

The art of being alone, I learned early on. Over the decades of my life it has been a blessing and a cursing.
SB Joy

I see a pattern here.
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