And, the road to hell paved with good intentions and all of the people I didn't contact this holiday season.
You know who.
Dag, into the thrift shop, railing at M***, then me. Her daughter. It's not her daughter, it's merely the bringing of bad tidings, of which her daughter has the misfortune to be the bearer.
You see, Dag, being deprived of her drivers license due to crimes against humanity, is now house-bound in Procter.
Talking to her, now 10, 12 years younger than when I talked to her last, she's regressing, it's not obvious, she's plausible in all other respects, but this backwards-aging, and were I better acquainted with her I would notice the others, I'm not so and so it flies. Just this, her age, getting younger every time we meet.
And I still haven't made it up to see Stormy. Which I'd better see to quick or I'll be going to hell...