A mail reached me today (that of course would sound much more romantic in the days of actual mail). It brought with it bits of a time gone by: the ring of long-ago laughter, words of half-sung songs, the faint twang of guitar strings, the hint of machine-made coffee, a whiff of cigarette smoke.

A black and white photograph must still be lying somewhere...

"We are time past that shall not return..."

It was like our fingertips touched... it was good to touch that life again.