Kendall told me about a man named March Flack. A radio actor who disappeared years ago. I assumed that was here.

Here at the window in the evenlight I lean my ears to summon once again The sound of memory in its sweet refrain, …

Cease your quest of love.

The tremor in my left hand is like the ominous grating note of a failing engine. I am growing weaker daily. What is this testimony but the collateral sparkings of a dying consciousness?