When he stopped answering my letters, etc. I thought, well, people lose interest after a while, etc.
This morning, half comatose in the chair, I heard the post arrive and staggered out for it.
I saw a card-like envelope in a familiar handwriting, and thought what a coincidence, as I had been planning to write out his Christmas card tonight, if I was feeling up to it. It turned out to be a memorial service card! I actually flopped onto a bench, like in the movies, and just laughed in a mentalist fashion...Inside, was a note from his sister (I guess they learned to write from the same teacher...) saying she'd found him 'lying peacefully in bed.It was just his time...'last month. He was frelling 65! (Actually, he'd kept that one quiet, I don't think he'd ever mentioned his age.) Still way,way too young to be dead. I guess we'll never know exactly what happened to him.
He was the kindest, funniest guy, and a talented artist, who deserved a whole lot more that this world granted to him.
Fucking, sodding, cunting hell, was there ever a year as mean and cruel as this one?