Nulla dies sine linea. Four sentences every day. About whatever happened that day. Most of it's even true. Written by Scott Lee Williams
Saturday, March 30, 2013
We Are Not Entirely Understood
Her father leans over the table at the Mexican restaurant, an earnest look on his face. "I was about forty-one, forty-two, and I had a few friends, and I knew what I was good at. I could read people - like you read books - and they helped me get a job doing what I was good at."
He relaxes back into his chair, sips his tea, then says, "I'm just saying I don't totally understand the lack of aspiration I see these days."