Once More

I keep returning to a version of my life over and over again, several times – no, many times – each and every day, checking that it still has the same qualities it had when I left it, and adding some new ones I think it should have. I snip and prune it; I make it sit up straight and pull a shirt over its drowsy head; I buff it up until I can see my own reflection in the polished surface. Then when I meet my own gaze within the reflection I think, ‘Yes, good job’, and go back to another version of my life, which is also in urgent need of maintenance.

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