Dawn sent me a prompt the other week, about vulnerability. And ruefully I felt I was feeling too vulnerable to write about it. It’s a common thing, I know, this business of removing small lesions as we age. A tactile war against the microagressions of invisible intruders. But it didn’t feel so minor, as I could barely contemplate the carnage without fainting. We all have this vision of ourselves, don’t we? An idea of who we are, and once in a while it shreds, before our very eyes, this fiction of our invulnerability. We look and see everything that is to come and it takes our breath away.