of what’s to come. They keep you updated on the confusion, the unknowing, the victors sounding more like the vanquished. It’s been impossible to work. These current affairs are a worthless pursuit when cast into the future. And nobody steps forward to say it’s not falling apart. But I must find a footing on the crackling floes and start to write again, there are books to finish, there’s Pico to climb and the business of living to get me there. There’s a house to build and the days run away no heed to our delay.
