running and running until she reaches

at last the one and only door

I’ve been thinking a lot about time (this is, perhaps, a mark of having friends who died young).

Time in the sense of deadlines; time in the sense of opportunities and the cost of opportunities; time in the sense of not knowing how much you really have left.

Some years ago one of the women I admire most told me she was all too acutely aware of the ageism …

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