
After rolling it around in my head for a few moments I decided that maybe because English was not his first language that he might be mistaking some of my darker attempts at humor for sadness. Looking back, his English was as precise as mine.
Since that time lots of fine folks have asked me the same question in one form or another. Autumn comes and I sense that familiar light. Heartaches's in the air. All of the seasons have their own brand of despair. I suppose that I should just be thankful that I have something to write about.
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