Oh dear God...
I have been in recluse for a little while, tending to work and my overgrown reading list, and I'll be back under the sheets for a while yet, if I had to guess, but this can't go without comment.
I feel like I could've saved it. I look back at all of you Huntingtonians with an unjustifiable sense of anger and disappointment, directed at no one in particular. And then I feel like I dove from the deck just as the explosion rendered devastation behind me. Less an explosion. More a slow, gruesome death. Like the plauge. What plagues Huntington? West Virginia? My old life?
They say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. To witness my beloved Keith Albee reduced to this (let alone to imagine its "not-for-profit" times to come) twists the dagger further into my heart, but I'm committed to enduring the quest I've chosen, and so I'll carry on, turn my head back one last time in disgust at you and in respect for the fallen hero of days gone by, cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war.
(If you don't understand any of this, go about your business. Nothing to see here.)
Thursday, January 19, 2006
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1 comment:
*empathetic feelings of sadness and disappointment*
Are you callable these days? My phone bit it, so you number is lost tome, but I hope you'll get in touch. My number's the same, and i could use a conversation with an old friend.
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