Then came winter. The dark night of the soul. The morning started out sunny and warm, and by midday a cold wind had blown in over the mountains and set temps back forty degrees. Snow by morning. More on the way.
After a decades-long search for an old buddy, I learned yesterday that he was dead. Gone at forty, a heroin overdose. Had a hard time choking the news down. We were thick as thieves when we were kids, and it’s difficult to imagine the world without him in it.
Requiescat in pace, Slinky. You were never forgotten, and will always be remembered.