It continues to feel like I'm living in a movie. Sometimes, it is a B movie I live in, do you remember those?
And yet they are beautiful, these B movies, and they hold my attention. In retrospect, they continue.
The other night there was a knock on my door.
Some tragedy had occurred or been performed. With tears in her bewildered eyes, she said to me:
"I put an avocado in a paper bag on my window sill to ripen like they tell you to, and now it's gone," she said. "Someone stole it."
It was like in a fairy tale. A Gretel or Alice in Wonderland or a little lost princess had come knocking on my door. For a moment, I lived in a house made of cookies.
I said, "Let's go look."
We walked together down the hall, I floating like a fairy Godmother, she, the child, trudging. She told her story again: "I put two avocados in my refrigerator, and one on my window sill to ripen, and now it's gone. Who would steal it?"
In her apartment, we found the stolen avocado still in its paper bag, fallen from the window sill onto a table beneath.
How happy she was to have her avocado back. At the same time, bewildered, she asked, "Who would move my avocado?"
This scene became a precious movie, and I wanted to play it back for you.