That Way and That

by Steve Mitchell

I have a crick in my neck.  But oh well.

I open my iPad and resume work on a painting.  It’s of my dad from a photo of him as a toddler.

Well, it’s a digital copy of the photo.

It’s a digital painting I paint.

He was an analog toddler.

And I’m struck by the photo, how much he looked like me at that age, how much he looked like Alec.

I loose track of time.  I’m absorbed.

The sun goes down.

My wife texts me from the gym; she’s almost done.  She’s almost home.

What time is it?

Oh, my.

I close the iPad for the day.  I come back to the world. I close the living room blinds.

And you know what else?

I have a crick in my neck.

orange blossoms –
the first evening
of spring


© Steve Mitchell 2017