Whistling in the Dark

...to the morning nausea and fatigue, post chemicals, the left side of my face hurts.

I mean, hurts.

It feels muscular, so I think I can rule out an ear infection. But I dunno. I may call the doctor later.

So how are you?

The announcement was tasteful, and warm. Stamped, more than likely. She's rather an expert at stamping.

The only wonder is that it's taken so long for the announcement to be made, when it so clearly is what they both want. It's sweet, and touching, and feels like a spring day in the rain, when the story comes to a close.

And me?

I drink a bit of scotch, and think of days gone by. And perhaps in a way I bid them goodbye in a way I never got around to. I wonder if my solitary path has led me as well as her shared one has. I wonder about my future, and about her future. I think of friends I have not seen and likely will not see.

I think of myself at twenty-two, and wonder where he went. He wasn't that bad a sort.

I think of myself today, and wonder how I came to this.

The epilogue finally gets penned. And new stories wait to be written.