"You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintery light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person died for no reason"
Ernest Hemingway (A Moveable Feast)
Lost an old friend, he was only 36. We spent a lot of good time together, I don't pray, else he would have surely been in my prayers. But I can always say a mild "thank you" to him, before I go to sleep every night, for all the good moments we've shared together, for calling me by my nickname.