love life

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Really.

“Yeah, but haven’t you worn out the story through so many sentimentalist postings in earlier years? Get over it.”

I did. That’s it. The full version. No more haunting. I’ve moved on.

“Really.”

Really.

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love and gravity: 16 months aftermy story

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In the relay odyssey of life, I happily slowed
my trek to bring you along, Linda. We sailed together
awhile. You fell behind. I slowed my pace. But
you fell behind further, and too often, until
I was gone from your lowland view because you
after all, weren’t Katherine: You wouldn’t learn to fly.

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café transcript on the identity of Art

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The origin of the following (far below here) bit of dialogue from some years ago has a history which is two degrees of separation from me: A friend of mine, Gene, from college decades ago, turned up last year at the funeral of his close friend, Thom, whose journalism I’d read occasionally. Detailing why this matters would get very involved, but—in a phrase—Thom’s link to Gene is causing Gene to be sought by foreign agents. I know that’s tritely implausible. But again, there’s a history that gets very involved. There’s no good place to start. So, I start here, though not yet to explain.