I’m a bit too tired and a bit too busy today to come up with anything to blog for you. I apologize, O Semi-Constant Reader.

Instead, I’ll share with you a song I’m enchanted with today.

I imagine dancing with Ashley in a smoky room, me in a suit, she in a polka-dot dress. Mayhap we’re at the officer’s club where we just received some troubling news during President Roosevelt’s address to the troops. Everyone around us would be sad if they we’re too tired to be sad. If they weren’t too used to it. If they had tears left to cry. Every drink is half-forgotten. The centerpieces are drooping lilies, and the bass player might be dressed in red. The man at the table nearest the dance floor, left foot propped on right knee, hand-rolls a cigarette. He is alone.


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