him he them

It's never going to get done, not all of it.
One more video.
Two emails, one with several people.
The other, only him.

Walk to the car.
Get in.
Drive.
Music.

Him.
Them.

Whoever sneezed a million years ago in whatever you sneezed in then and that bee that dropped that pollen during that spring, I am grateful for those moments because somehow those moments led us here. Things not getting done, maybe they were never supposed to be, maybe later but now matters to me.




I do wish he was going with us. They would love him, and he them.