February 01, 2003


Every journey and every battle must come to an end. Beyond all the glory of victory and the shame of defeat, someone has to clean up the mess when the jubilant have moved on and the dead have been removed. Life has to go on. The blood stains take time to wash off completely. It is a new day with the same old props. Hand me that brush mate, have a lot of scrubbing in the days to come.