Today, I took a walk along my usual cycling trail, pausing at Mario Cicci’s bench, who apparently had “A life well lived.” With a large cappuccino warming me, I strolled ahead slowly under the gentle November sky.
After a good 40-minute walk and a spirited internal dialogue, I realized I lost my sunglasses. As I retraced my steps, contemplating how they vanished in such stillness, I thought they must have slipped on one of the benches I sat on. As more people passed me by, I felt the likelihood of me finding them decreased steadily.
“Mr. Cicci if you liked my sunglasses that much you could have just asked!” I said jokingly as I sat again on Cicci’s bench realizing that my most beloved pair of shades slipped already into some other world.
Bathed in a beautiful radiant light, I scrolled for a while, checked my backpack, and headed to discard a bunch of old receipts that I kept on carrying around.
As I was heading to the waste bin, something shiny captured my attention! My pair of shades, wickedly looking up at me, sungazing on top of a carpet of fallen leaves.
The little bastards looked like they had the time of their lives, sipping on Margaritas and galavanting in Aruba with a bunch of other missing sunglasses.
Mr. Cicci, I don’t really know how you did that, but I think you’re a pretty cool guy, and I can only hope to also have “a life well lived”.
THE WONDERMIND 