The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
October 29, 2004

Start again

I saw an elderly woman fall down in the street today. She hit the ground without grace or upbear. My toes curled inside my shoes at the site. I gripped the door handle until my fingers turned white. As the cab pass I could only watch as no one helped her or even stop for that matter. But this is the beauty of life diary, the old girl picked herself up, gathered her groceries and shook her head playfully as if she was a cartoon dog that had just took an anvil to the head. She shrugged her shoulders and started again, her chin exactly where it was suppose to be. No I do not know her name, but I am naming her Alice. Sometimes things need to be left alone and sometimes strangers need to be named. I have a meeting in ten minutes but I doubt I will be able to think of anything else. The powder is dry and the knots will tumble.