“This not wishing is going to be the undoing of me,” I say.

That’s the idea,” says the small voice.

“Huh?’

“Undoing is the idea, remember?”

“But I thought the idea was to set aside wishing.

You keep upping the ante.”

“Pardon the pun,

but you’re  way past due for an undo.” 

“Past due?” I ask.

“Hon,” the small voice says, “You’re seventy-two.

Holding on is what you always do.”

“I’m scared if I let go, I’ll lose my grip on reality,” 

“You have to lose your grip 

to find reality,” the small voice says.

“Riddles upon riddles.

They are going to be the undoing of me.”

“Yes,”the small voice says, smiling.

                                                                                                                                JDG