Summer of Fun
August 12, 2005
It was at this point that he found himself simply too overwhelmed with projects and life to continue the narrative with any particular regularity.
"Alas," he cried, "I cannot do it."
"You must," they insisted, but their plea fell upon ears that could not hear, and fingers that could no longer type.
And thus he shut tight the lid of the laptop upon which he'd typed tens of thousands of words, and stood up from his chair.
"That's it, then," he said, with little vocal inflection, "it's time for a break."
And so it was. But he knew, as did they, that there was no break, per se, for there was work to do and life to live. They watched as he walked off into the cloudy afternoon, knowing he'd return, but not knowing when.