The oil painting bought at a
second-hand store to be used
in decorating the condo was

full of desert colors and the
blue of shallow water brightly
reflecting the ever present sun.

Someone said it looked like
Page. He didn’t know if he
would ever get to Page so he

walked into the painting wear-
ing his old hiking boots. At
the water’s edge, he removed

his boots and socks and walked
in up to his knees. The water
was clear and cold. Feeling

the tingle before numbness he
walked back out, picked up his
boots and socks and left Page

behind. His wife asked him if
he wanted a cup of freshly
brewed, morning coffee. Won-

dering why he had his boots
and socks in his hand, she
asked him if he were going

for a hike. “No. Been there,
done that,” he said as he
sat at the table.