Random Thinking

Three or four times a day I accidentally think about things. I lie. Maybe a hundred times a day my ideas are accidental. Things creep randomly into my mind, a memory of a dressing room. A feeling that I am being watched by a snake, a smell of lemon for no reason. Some of the blips and glimpses seem incredibly far-fetched. They are from the Twilight Zone; unbidden, but totally here now. Some of the glimpses I receive of totally unmemorable times. Yesterday I thought of a person I had not seen in fifty years. She is not a neighbor, a relative or a friend. She was a classmate I rarely spoke to, for she was shy. Her obituary was in the newspaper this morning.