On the Nature of Forlorn.

On my nocturnal walk tonight I saw a vague shape standing a little way ahead of me. I switched on the torch and saw that it was Cassie, the pub dog. She looked so forlorn, poor little sweetheart, and yet I’ve no reason to believe other than that she chooses her solitary lifestyle. Nevertheless, I took her home.

When I entered the pub I found it empty of customers, as it had been the last time I went in there. The sight of an empty pub is also forlorn, and yet, for some reason, it reminded me of something an episode in my life once taught me:

Being lonely and alone isn’t as bad as being lonely in the company of strangers.