Final Days

Odd to walk down Shartuck and look at Berkeley with the eyes of a man leaving. Not sure why I move every two years. Or where I might land this time. Restless. Should I make another attempt at cycling across the country? Should I return to Oregon? Should I start another novel? Am I still searching for what I want to be when I grow up? Or (cue dramatic music) am I running from something? Will I look back only to see nothing chasing me? 

I already miss hiking with Ana, the stupid conversations at Bobby Gs, finding a new set of wooden steps up into the Berkeley Hills, and I walked past Trader Joe’s tonight. I thought about going in and saying hello and then kept walking.


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