It is quiet beside the lake today. My usual bench is occupied when I come around to it, so I sit nearby on the sloping grass instead. A young couple sits at the bench, completely immersed in each other. I feel a pang of– not quite jealousy, but perhaps nostalgia. I remember first kisses on park benches, the thrill of free falling into another person’s world.

And so it goes: “In another moment, down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again.”

The problem with the falling, I suppose, is the obligatory thump. Perhaps the ‘thump’ is why I feel nostalgia and not envy. Why I prefer now to slide gingerly, and whether I prefer to or not, I always go with some level of cynicism that I imagine these two young people do not possess…yet.