My old septuagenarian legs plod up the steep hills in Golden Gate Heights, my old octogenarian dog Bruno by my side. Together we make it to the top of one San Francisco hill after the other. I pause at a peak and take in the view, seeing past Golden Gate Park to the arches of the Golden Gate Bridge. Two teenaged boys, sitting on their front steps while looking at their cell phones, yell out that I’m too old to be walking up that hill. I smile, and Bruno and I continue walking the rest of the three miles home.
Eliza Mimski lives and writes in San Francisco, California. Her poems, stories and personal essays have appeared in print and across the net. elizamimski.wordpress.com www.facebook.com/eliza.mimski