On my way home, after I reached street level, I stopped in a drinking establishment, where a number of men who must have worked in a nearby office were celebrating the retirement of one of their own. As I was standing at the bar, not touching my drink, but merely looking down at it, wondering whether I’d really wanted it or had only thought I did, one of the men asked me to take a photo of he and his colleague, who was the one whose retirement they were celebrating.
Fabulous Edward. Fabulous, Edward.