“He is loved. He will be greatly missed.”
Or so his obituary said from not that long ago.
He may have been loved, but they sold his books awfully quick — I picked this one up on eBay a few years back.
He was an engineer and traveled the world, apparently.
Reading between the lines of the obituary and judging by this book, I’d say he was gay, too:
“Deeply loved by his nieces and nephews,” appreciated art, split his time between two cities, etc.
We’re not stupid.
He neatly wrote his name on the inside cover of the book.
It has to be the same guy — the spelling is too unique.
I’m throwing the book away now, ripping it into shreds after I scan the pictures.
Into the earth the pages will go,
As the previous owner already has,
And as I will one day, too.
Why bother leaving my name?