Fading with the the Classics.

I walked a whole half mile today for the first time since the operation, and now I’m tireder than a little lamb who’s spent the daylight hours playing King of the Castle and chasing his mother around through want of nourishment. And now it’s sunset and the bleating of the ewes tolls the knell of parting day.

I think I might be fading fast. I just fell asleep for an hour with my head on the desk and woke up feeling aggrieved that a major part of my life was wiped off the map when I discovered that my old high school had been demolished to make way for a new one with a silly name.

Time, I think, for my appointment with John Barleycorn, a little night music, and a carefully managed descent into the arms of Morpheus. I read once that the phrase ‘into the arms of Morpheus’ is a ‘pretentiously classical allusion.’ Proof enough that I’m fading fast, so I hope the sun is shining and the spring flowers blooming on the scepter’d Isle of Avalon. If not, I might be back tomorrow.