AND THEN HE BEGAN TO WRITE - prologue

Sunday, December 1, 2013



I saw you the other day. You came into the coffee house. I was seated at a table in a corner. You did not see me. I saw your smile. Although I am now an elderly man, you have not changed from the beautiful young woman who walked away. So many years ago.

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter
Each look back
Love, Joy, Regret Despair
Now just your smile

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"So, my friends, may a glimmer of that delight which has so often possessed me, but perhaps too frequently in secret, now reach you from these pages. J. B. Priestley