cliches raze i was a little late. it didn't matter much. i would have had to wait anyway. an old man with bad carpal tunnel and half his hearing gone was in the next room. my ears work just fine. they let me have a few pieces of a conversation i wasn't a part of. the man was in the air force. stretch your fingers out for a second. limited range of motion. we'll know pretty soon one way or the other. when it was my turn, doug sat down and lanced my right arm with light. "it's a lot better," he said. "you can feel that?" "yeah. it's still there. but the muscle isn't as ropey as it was when you first came in." "you told me something the last time i saw you," i said. "about how we weren't made to go through life without carrying some amount of pain. that stuck with me." he stopped what he was doing and let his eyes lock onto mine. "i'll tell you something else," he said. "we're not meant to live forever." it hit me like a cold fist in the throat. some cliches earned their stripes by dint of being true. i know you know it too. 221005 what's it to you? who go blather from