IT’S QUARTER TO FOUR, THERE’S NO ONE IN THE PLACE EXCEPT YOU AND ME…

And, in silence, spending the night by choice on the hard laminate floor of my study, unsoftened by a reasonably thick carpet, without much comfort from a comforter, some facts of one’s life — hard, uncomforting facts — become manifest in the darkness. So you sit up to write about them — and they vanish. Isn’t it always the way? But they are worth pursuing, as best you can remember them, by the dawn’s coming light — on this First of May.

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