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Sometimes I wonder if I unwittingly contributed to his death.
It is possible, even likely, that he died. I’ll never know, of course, but if I lived nearer I’d probably go to the factory and see what I could find out. There’s an element of guilt somewhere there. The memory of him comes back to me at those odd moments we all experience, when we suddenly feel very aware of ourselves and of our tininess in the universe. How fragile we are! How important we are to ourselves and how…
ContinueAdded by Catherine Broughton on September 17, 2012 at 10:30am — No Comments
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