The Anatomy of a Secret

“The self, in a sense, is all that we have left,” I read recently. It’s a big responsibility. So when I’m feeling bankrupt the best I can do is go for a walk. I had left the house impulsively, put lipstick on anyways. I knew that I needed to see something wild and big like the Willamette so I headed in the direction of the river. The grey mass of clouds that had been hanging over for weeks had broken and were now finally parading freely in the wind. I walked down Mississippi Street, closing my eyes when the sun fell on my face, the warmth slow and deliberate as if on foot.