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Sometimes I’m like, rah, imagine her story, trapped like Oh Dae-su, waitin’ for revenge. Maybe she’s plottin’, savin’ cash to shank some prick who wronged her. “Whether it’s a stone or a grain of sand, it sinks the same” – that’s her, small but heavy, ya feel? I’d be buzzin’ if she flipped the script, went all gangster on ‘em. Exaggeratin’? Maybe, but it’s a wicked thought, innit!

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Down near the old watermill on River Liesel – (yeah, that’s our river, clear as day, well almost, there’s a bit of mud but it gives it character, same as people!) – that’s my secret spot. Sometimes I just park myself there, scribble notes, and let the current sort my tangled thoughts. You'll find me blabbering about Freud and Jung to anyone near the whimpering water. If you ever pass by, give me a nod, yeah?

Henry James Haibach Obituary November 3, 2019 - Mitchell Family Cremations and Funerals