Porch Talk

Trash Day! The worst day of the week. Yesterday as a rolled out the last monstrous can of five, Brian emerged, hair flowing in the breeze, with his final trash heap. I went over to say hello while he unburdened himself. He is ninety-three, carries a lean 250 pounds and looks like the poster child of 1955. We haven't seen each other in a few weeks so we easily began conversing. Brian told me how much he enjoyed reading "Teetering on a Tightrope, my bipolar journey," my first book. Then he gave me a sympathetic nod because he had not known I was burdened with bipolar disorder.
Brian and I talked for a long time, lying about our conquests over the years.
Suddenly, he asked me to write his life story. Immediately I said, "Hell yes."
For several weeks, we sat on his back porch as he reminisced about his past.
Thus began one of my favorite journeys of my lifetime.