4 June 2008. Dappled sun, dimpled turquoise pool water. Two swimmers in brimming form, churning alongside in same lane. Their rapid words in Spanish between each lap. "Desde la cuarenta...
One year ago--Leonard. Sometime in the night, he departed. Or a part of him departed. "Restarting the World," perhaps. As he'd have said it. "Creatures of Distance," too. Always in that sense--of things necessarily understood at a remove. An acknowledgement, of his own subtle kind. Not without a raised eyebrow--or shoulder (very slightly) on occasion. The El Monte touch. Printing plant, also in mid-evening, about to set out for a Tango lesson, brown rum bottles standing guard, somewhere near the door. Fathers and Sons...
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