Sometimes I plan on writing witty, telling, short bits here. I hope to bowl you over with my lyrical nonsense and make you want to read more. And then life happens.
It comes without ceremony and without asking. It sits in the middle of your view and sucks all the air out of the room and demands you keep up.
Sometimes being human comes before being an artist and a trier, and it is enough to simply to still be standing at the end of it all.
This has been one of those times.
But we won’t boo and hoo. We’ll mourn, grieve, perhaps even lament what is lost and then we’ll write to capture it all, to share it with fellow walkers.
And perhaps we’ll strike somewhere where others have stood and the loneliness will not be so great, nor so overwhelming.