Late Night Chill.

I dread the possibility that one day I might feel constrained to say ‘Please remember me for who I was, not what I became.’

And it’s a matter of little consequence that Saturday 4^th November was the day on which I got married for the first and only time. Anna was a good sort, but she was never my wife simply because I was incapable of ever being a husband. I wonder where she is now.

Time runs apace and life is but a summer spent in the cornfield as an ear of grain.