Pink to purple

I just found a malaria pill in the tiny little pocket in my jeans that fits nothing more than that. I put it there when my parents were here last. This pill was prescribed by my travel doc last year so I could avoid contracting malaria in the jungle, but is also an antibiotic. I've taken it from time to time over the last year to combat the inevitable clouds of winter sickness. This particular pill's been washed in these jeans probably five times since my folks left but still looks pretty much the same, a touch more purple than pink with the color of the denim. I wonder if it takes that long to break down in the body too. Yikes.

It's funny how something so small can take you back to a particular moment. Maybe I'm sentimental lately, there are just some days that I want to be with family. People who don't care necessarily what craziness comes out of your mouth. They know your madness and how to read it, gauge it, and get you to laugh out of it. I guess I'm just feeling the need to feel a part of something greater than me.