I no longer fear death. I no longer value life. Its remnants lie curled up cold and clammy inside me, waiting to be snuffed out.
It began with envy: the envy of a friend. What ended it was a poem. The sequence of events, as they unfolded are recorded here.
I attribute my present condition to Ajaya´s death, For a week or two after that, memories of my life are at best hazy. I probably went through the motions of living.
My wife doubtless suspects that my behaviour is related to my friend´s death. Her anxiety became obvious when she referred to my odd behaviour later. If only she knew.