That’s the curse of the reading class. We can be seduced by a good story even at the least opportune moments.
past moments old dreams back again or fresh like those that pass or things things always and memories I say them as I hear them murmur them in the mud
In all your life, only a few moments matter. Mostly you never get a good look at them except in hindsight, long after they’ve zipped past you: the moment when you decided whether to talk to that girl, slow down on that blind bend, stop and find that condom. I was lucky, I guess you could call it. I got to see one of mine face-to-face, and recognize it for what it was.