Ignore my calls to stay hidden. Drag me out from behind this cobweb-scribbled door. I'll pretend to be surprised when you scream in elation, when you hold your trophy close to your heart. Find me.
We had been friends for over twenty-five years. More than a quarter of a century. I don’t know why I feel the need to emphasise the length of time we’d known each other, as if the more time invested the deeper the friendship. There is perhaps a strong correlation but no causation between length of knowing and love.
You sit there in your room, that shrunken world, surrounded by trinkets; an attempt to anchor the tides of your ebbing memory. I have been told that you dislike visitors but I have come nevertheless, before I lose my nerve.