Crossing Over Into the Second Half Century
Today, I am fifty-one years old. A full six years past my predetermined demise and a year into my fifth decade. What did I learn in my fifty-first year worth remembering?
Today, I am fifty-one years old. A full six years past my predetermined demise and a year into my fifth decade. What did I learn in my fifty-first year worth remembering?
By morning, he had decided he needed somewhere nobody cared about theater, someplace where the name Chekhov was more likely to be mistaken for a rifle than a playwright.