The Last Pastry

A friend wrote a note recently, a line of which I take liberty in quoting: ".....the countdown begun and every last pastry could be your last for quite some time from that place, whichever one it is." That place. Yes, indeed. It's interesting to contemplate the last meal, the last cigarette, the last kiss. How do we really know (unless we're on the scaffold) that it is the last? And last can be okay: the last lap, the last question on the SAT, last call. I'm not sure I want to get caught up in lasts. I'd like to function more on a continuum, ebbing & flowing, having experiences merge and complement each other. The older I get the less I see sharp distinctions in life; the influences show their inherent relativity and are, to me, somehow more comforting that way. But I've always been an asymmetrical kind of person.