I am not dead. I would say, “I am very much alive,” but, you know how that goes.

When will I say something again . . . ? I don’t know! (Who cares!) Though, for a small hiccup-laugh, let me ask myself that very question right quick.

. . .

Hm.

. . .

Hm, yes! It has been decided that I will type many things when day returns to us again. There is much to be typed, for sure.

It will be typed tomorrow afternoon as the sun sets, for the sun is anxious to hide in this dark, dark months.

What will I say, what will I say? Oh!

Yes:

The mountains, the mourning of the dead.

The stars and the sounds of cars.

Please anticipate what will ultimately amount to a tidy pile of small rocks. This is all I have to offer you–whoever you are.

Let us hope that you’re a friend of mine.