my body's weight on my thumbs

"Forget it, okay? Back to reality, please; back to my life. I’d listen to Avi after so many years, but I’d never turn to rigorous calisthenics; I’d never do push-ups, never mind sets of fifty with my body’s weight on my thumbs. Unfit, if not incontrovertibly destroyed, I didn’t care for his recommendations. Yet Avi was an old friend, and I hardly knew any of the others I’ve described.

"Teaching abroad in Suzhou, China, there was no bird—no cardinal or goldfinch—but back in the states, there was an old friend’s phone call—about the life I would never have unless I took action—which reminded me of working abroad and disappeared youth; a butcher’s knife swung at the air above an old friend’s throat; an imagined bird; and a brief, if emphatic, encounter with a Korean-American adolescent in a basement shopping mall."

Paul Klee's Fish Magic

a danger to my person

"When I moved to open it again, I saw light and movement near the overhead lamp fastened to the center of the ceiling in the other room. And I heard a flapping noise. Golden feathers glistened against the light of the lamp. I was scared. A bird had flown through the window when I was in the shower, and it was trapped in my tiny apartment and a danger to my person!"

No one was in my life

"Adjunct survival led me to a bird that flew into my apartment only this past year while teaching abroad in Suzhou, China. Not dead yet and employed overseas again, I’d chased contract work to 'the Venice of the Far East'—a mainland city of man-made lakes and narrow canals—but I was alone. I had no friends. Gardens bloomed throughout the city, but there was no housing bulletin board at an American church. I had people in the program—teachers, students, staff—that I would exchange pleasantries with or occasional chitchat, but there was no one I was close to. I wasn’t going to stay up all night discussing politics, literature, or anything else. No one was in my life, and talking all about it no longer appealed to me."

~~ from "An Old Friend Called" by Alex Kudera

not the best I could do

"He was assessing me now. Was I using too many paper products? Yes. Did I really need a full shower when a washcloth rinse would do? I supposed not. Walk whenever possible; drive only if you must. Of course. Avoid elevators; take the stairs. From now on, I would. Change would be good for me. Moving more would be good for me. Stationary bike or lap lane? Sure. Finishing this cheeseburger and cola was not the best I could do, and ordering a hot fudge sundae would work against my interests."

a primitive way

"My strength was nearly depleted when Avi stopped pressing hard against me; at last, I could see he was no threat to attack. I didn’t see anything we could win by furthering this contest, and I recognized that Avi’s theft was the initiation of the physical encounter, if not the first act of aggression. In hindsight, it’s hard to remember another time when anything I was involved with was settled in such a primitive way."

no conversion required

"Whereas Avi wanted me to know who I could become, the boy already knew who I was. An identification, no conversion required.

"He appointed me as his countryman, but he didn’t stop and give me time to pledge allegiance."

squalid, cozy, overpriced, plain

"Overseas, again, yes. I know. I admit it, I’ve seen my share of international airports. I’ve blended in with tourists and businessmen. I played 'the normie'—one of them. Airports offer an oversupply of oversized Americans, middle-age men and women who, impossibly, fit into economy passenger seats. In Asia, I’ve seen the long lines of foreign students eager to embrace America . . .

"You may be asking, 'Was he ever at home?'

"Certainly so; I lived at home—my share of studios, efficiencies, and junior one-bedrooms, my mother’s apartment, a friend’s couch. Various arrangements—squalid, cozy, overpriced, plain. I knew Murphy beds and futons thrown on the floor; minifridges without a freezer; electric-range only, no full-sized oven or no oven; and metal fire escapes, stored in a painted box, to be thrown out the window ahead of me. I’ve worked in several sections of America, and I’ve seen entire towns of people poorer than me. Obese and depressed; wobbling through Walmarts. I’ve lived among them."