Who wants to die without seeing everyone you’d want to see and saying all the things you want to say to the most precious gifts life has to offer: of friends you make along the “long and winding road,” to quote Lennon and McCartney. I’d venture to guess not a single person would pass up the an opportunity like that. Or would you?
The sounds of trees As they all melted together humming into a bee swarm choir. All of them tenors singing around my delicate sensibilities, Breaking the crystal with those high pitched cries at The octave of all deceptions.