It was a long week. Most of Tuesday was a sinking feeling. Wednesday was two lines from The Bridge on the River Kwai. My God, what have I done? Madness. Madness! Most of the time since, I’ve been numb. Playing a few mournful songs on guitar. Washing dishes, or bagging trash, or folding clothes, partly …
Nightrider's Lament
"Why do they [write] for their money? Why do they [work] for short pay? They ain't getting nowhere and they're losing their share. They must have gone crazy back there." — Michael Burton (paraphrased)
