Skin and bones that made their way the best they could...older now. Felt with every breath and every sudden movement. Lines drawn for no particular reason. Maybe you just wanted to see what lay on the other side. Or maybe you just wanted something to look back on. But that's not the way it works. Now, is it?...BIOSearching the passing faces for an ounce of recognition. Into the old haunts -- the ones that are still standing. Only heightening the sense of removal. No longer part of whatever it was that was happening here. Long ago. The changing of the guard took place when you were away and now you're a newcomer...a visitor...a passing shadow. Doing your part and sparing the cornered regular your predictable tale...taking a lost look around and headingback into the fading day.

Isn't there some place you're supposed to be?