I am writing this for you, but probably for me.
I could claim that I knew you back then. That I saw you in Stuttgart.
But that would not be true. I was cheering for Lynn then.
I could claim that I know you now but that is equally untrue.
So I write this for me.
I know only what you write of you now. What you choose to show now.
Maybe that is the best of you now. Maybe it is something different.
Maybe it is something more.
I can't lay claim to your present any more than your audience can
lay claim to your past.
We are just doing what we do and weaving our way through the now.
A memory of a hero from the past.
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