I spoke with Helen on the phone for a long time today (she
was en route to Genoa – the one in Italy that they named the cake after,) I had
the rare pleasure of speaking with M’Lady S in person, the metaphorical
switchboard to my blog got jammed with callers enquiring after an answer to the
mystery of Sherlock’s survival, and... and...
The Woman in America
kept showing her face at my window just when I felt most attuned to her.
Why is the world beating a path to my door today? Can I
cope? I think I need some alone time.
Must make that post about the difference in the way people
respond to the loner and the lonely person. Not tonight, though. I’m more in
the mood for drinking than thinking.
And why on earth do I keep hearing Colin Clive uttering the
famous line She’s alive! She’s alive!
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