He walked-ran day after day although it was a living bore, the sameness, the ritual. This extraordinary world—is this how life wants me to live it? But he ran to keep himself on keel, to wind himself into work the next morning.
Hamlet: . . . Give me one poor request. Horatio: What is't, my lord? we will. Hamlet: Never make known what you have seen to-night. . . .Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. Ghost: [Beneath] Swear. Hamlet: Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, truepenny? Come on—you hear this fellow in the cellarage— Consent to swear.
He'd have no problem knocking out John Martorano with one bare knuckled blow.
Apart from the shooting that ensues from drey poking, it can be productive to walk through woodland in the winter and spring months with a shotgun or better still an air rifle, and remove the foraging squirrels.
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DiQt
Free
★★★★★★★★★★
