Well Lived

I caught on fire when I was three. This was half a century ago, yet still you will see the handiwork of this fire when I remove my shirt.

Outside, in the gardens, the trees were ripe with lemons. The beach was cool with water.

Recovery took a season — I simplify.

Next I returned to the world, a square of low wooden benches had been set out for the children. This was behind the Mimosa school, in the thin woods. A kookaburra was singing.

I broke my first limb at a glacier – I was skating. Later came the wrist, the scapula, the forearm, the scaphoid and then the wrist again.

I cannot help but think that every injury and slight and pain, is what gives us value, that life well lived is an accumulation of such.

About louisewleonard

Author of 52 Men, Since You Ask, and others Also in The Rumpus, Tin House, Fiction Advocate, Gargoyle.
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