But I won't write a eulogy, because it's not something I'm good at. But that sense of obligation will be with me for a long, long time.
Kathryn and I had preordered Black Star on vinyl, and, as fate would have it, the album arrived yesterday. As the sun set, we sat together in the front parlor and listened.
"And the silence flies
On its brief flight,
A razor sharp crap shoot affair." ~ David Bowie
Today, it's cold and sunny. Currently, it's 29˚F and feels like 26˚F.
I have to finish "Eurydice Eduction" today. On Sunday, I wrote 1,085 words. Yesterday, I wrote nothing. And I need to finish proofing "The Cripple and the Starfish" for a reprint.