I must admit that I am upset at not having heard from you, my friend. It has been merely one day, not even twenty-four hours, and there is again silence from your corner. I did not expect to hear much from you, but the deafening silence is difficult to tolerate at times. I am lonely here in the short-blog region of our virtual world, watching and waiting as did dutifully the watchman in the Oresteia. Yet, he at last finds something, an empty victory indeed but still something. Perhaps that is what I am discovering here, an empty victory. Certainly, the trend for blogging has expired for those who are invested in the virtual world. But, we are not so, are we? We arose to culture running and finding places to hide from the other children in order to read. We watched the animals in the diminutive valley behind our rooms filled with living. Ours was a tidy, soft upbringing. Later, we became tough, inside at least.
It seems that your silence has been for me decades-long. Still, I call you a friend.