The Uphill Slide

There is always something.

An Easter Sunday

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It was long ago and far away, well not so far—Worthington, Pennsylvania, not Worthington, Ontario. I recently had a friend request from a young sexy woman from that twin city. “Perhaps she was friending me because of those identical names. Then I looked at the few photos posted that suggested something else. The photos of a beautiful woman probably weren’t even the person behind the request, a catfishing scheme. Anyway long ago was probably 20 years, just seems like a long time now. We ate Easter dinner at my in-law’s house with our family and my brother-in-law and his partner. After eating too much and feeling that boredom of having outgrown a childhood home, we decided to take a walk. The kids stayed with their grandparents and candy. We walked Main Street towards the creek at the bottom of the hill. We turned right onto a road following along the creek and past the house where a high school friend had lived with her grandmother and parents and a horse. There was a camp along that road that curved around to meet the Worthington-Cowansville Road. It was a wooded area with boulders left by glaciers before our little town ever existed. This road no longer exists reverting with disuse to landowners. We walked and talked in normal voices. We could see the camp was head of us. As we neared, we could see two people on the porch entwined on a chair or recliner in a familiar position really enjoying that Sunday afternoon. Did they hear our voices coming nearer warning them of our approach? We turned and scampered back to Main Street to give them the privacy they expected in the middle of the woods of Worthington.

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