Alan

The last time I saw you, we were whispering and laughing together to forestall a terrible gathering urgency, like the wind rising outside, lashing the window with rain on the very verge of sleet.

I told you I would be lonely when you'd gone, and you laughed, and said, "I don't think so."

I asked you what you mean, since no one ever comes here, and you said, "That's what I mean."

What did you mean? Did you mean it shouldn't trouble me, to live alone, that I should be functioning and thinking and working to occupy this lifetime, instead of dreaming of what may be, what might be, what will be?

I end these musings with a quote:

Isn't it always amazing! The fact of time, time passing, time passed and never to be retrieved...but you do get used to it.

Do you?

Don't you?

Don't you...what?

Get used to it.

Used to...?

Time passing.

Oh, no! Oh, yes, I suppose.