My friend Charley has lung cancer, stage five, and will soon be at home with hospice.
I have to have a tooth implant, which I can't afford financially but can't afford to live without in terms of my oral health.
But on this day when competing claims battle inside me, a female Widow Skimmer befriended me, climbing up on my shoe, then my finger, then my shirtsleeve, clinging minutes, before flitting downward, settling into grass to strengthen while I admired her golden face and smoky wings.
Perhaps her trust, perhaps the stillness of our connection will still my anxiety in facing things as they are.
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