Who will want my collection of return to sender envelopes?
Who will want my list of people lost? (Michael Baumgartner, Dallas Johnson, where are you?)
I hate losing people.
Before you go, make a crumb trail, write a manifesto, plant a tree.
My dad lived for twenty-five thousand, six hundred and forty seven days.
He left behind his good deeds. They evaporated like dew.
Historys half-life is short. Memorys half-life is unbearably brief.
Gone without a trace.