the last hill shard

The Last Hill Shard

Is it possible to write on flimsy nose tissue with a pencil?

You bet it is. I’m doing it right now, a salute to decades of Shard writing on yellow pads while sitting in my van on this hill, a salute written in pencil on nose tissue because I forgot the yellow pad and ballpoint at home.

Early Sunday morning, writing straight into the hereafter.

The hereafter. Death is death, be it slow or fast, painful or peaceful; once the line is crossed it all smooths into sameness. It’s life that has quirks and glitches. Death is the only true peace.

So here’s a P.S. to my hill Shards.

All bases are now covered.

Let the angels sing.

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