Conversation is an exploration. We get lost in a metaphor of planet spinning in devoid space, a ball with hot molten rock somewhere in the middle, when maybe we are a field, a curtain of curtains, a territory wild with tame places.
:- Doug.
What if we sit and lament on each other as at a funeral or wake? Old Doug, I will miss his ___. Rob about made it to ___, but gave up a little too soon. Or maybe something happier.
:- Doug.
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