Your oldest friends are a living reminder of your mortality. You remember them in their youth and that puts them entropy of aging in a stark and visible contrast. It wasn’t until recently that I saw we were entering the early autumn of our lives. The hair falling from our heads, the way discolored leaves wither and fall from the branches of trees. It is a visible reminder of the approaching inevitable. In time only one of us will be left to remember the other.

Popular posts from this blog

There are no closets in foxholes

The Borderline Angel of Death

The Bronze Bull