There is no one on this road but me. I was waiting for the bell to call us for meal time when I felt the presence of someone or something behind me. I swivelled around to meet an old lady stooped over , her face beautifully defined with age. ” Can you feel the sacredness here?”. I felt unable to move as if I was stuck in time, yes is all I could whisper , yes for this moment, yes for sadness, yes for joy, yes for the sound of the whipperwill , yes for that angry cry, yes to youth, old age and death, yes to every goddamn thing that has ever happened now and in the future. I refuse to say no , you can’t filter this and that for if you do your eating only half the pie. When the bell finally came we entered the sparse dining room, the old lady had disappeared , was I imaging that conversation with her? No matter, I tucked into the evening meal like there was no tomorrow and there isnt, for this is it. There is no one on this road but me and the sound of birds as the sun retires to her sleep resting on moon beams and the dying of the light .