Write four lines of prose about: the coming darkness.
The Canucks lost again tonight, meaning they're down two games to none. Just like they started last year's playoffs. I'm hoping this trend does not continue.
Had a very windy day here, which kept us out of the garden for most of it. So we did a few things around the house, including setting up Max's new crib. He's in it right now, snoring away, which I figure is a sign he likes it.
I know it is coming. The inevitability is the worst part; that certainty that there is nothing I can do, that there will be no avoiding it. It is, quite simply, just a matter of time.
One morning I shall wake up and the darkness will remain, coating my eyes for the remainder of my days.