.

    I sit by t today. It ions keep me silent for many hours.

    I did not read to anyone t, for poetic introspection o tears. In time, t except for tfalls of evening soldiers. At eleven oclock I  for some reason I expected. tsteps I know so well.

    Dr. Barnwell peeks in.

    quot;I noticed your lig;

    quot;No,quot; I say, shaking my head.

    aking a seat a fe from me.

    quot;I ; ;you ; rigued by us and tions kno is entirely professional.

    quot;I suppose so.quot;

    my ans me. quot;You okay, Noatle do;

    quot;Im fine. Just a little tired.quot;

    quot;oday?quot;

    quot;Salked for almost four ;

    quot;Four s… incredible.quot;

    I can only nod. ;Ive never seen anyt, or even  it. I guess ts . You t for eac love you very muc, dont you?quot;

    quot;I kno; I say, but I cant say anything more.

    quot;s really bot  your feelings?

    quot;No. Sually. Its just t rig;

    quot;Alone? Nobodys alone.quot;

    quot;Im alone,quot; I say as I look at my c ;and so are you.quot;

    t fe significance. Allie o recognize me at any time, and I admit my attention  of my ts  spent. too soon, t t day, only gained, and I was o his blessing once again.

    By tty mucurned to normal. Or at least as normal as my life can be. Reading to Allie, reading to othe halls.

    Lying a nigting by my er in trange comfort in tability of my life.

    On a cool, foggy morning eiger s our day togetom, and puttered around m