![]() I almost cried and thought I might, but then didn’t, since I had a way to go before I got home and didn’t want anyone to have to see a 6’3”, 230 pound bearded man running down the street in tears in bright workout gear on their way to work or school. I thought about how happy that probably made him, now that I have two sons of my own, both under the age of three, and I know how much I enjoy kissing their smooth little cheeks. Then I imagined my dad kissing me when I was a boy, to say good morning or good night, and how good that felt. And for some reason I imagined him kissing me and feeling that stubble on my cheek and catching the smell of his breath and perhaps a hint of Aqua Velva. ![]() I thought about his face and the grey stubble on his cheeks and the set of his mouth. He was walking in the opposite direction I was running and as we passed he said “Good morning.” I was running this morning and passed a guy who was probably in his sixties. The following piece appears in print in the Australian magazine, smith journal.
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