I feel like there’s a 90% chance that he’ll get the e-mail and read this site, and for that 90% I want to give thanks.
An impulse and a coincidence lead me to an 8 minute phone conversation with someone lost but not forgotten. Really only a three year pause from a random phonecall while sitting at a DMV. In that time he has fathered another and I’ve accomplished a move and a new job not much else.
My first real memory was in the basement of Longden. He, Tamra, and I were studying together. They both had disrobed to some degree and I sat overwhelmed and mesmerized.
There’s little more I wish to divulge to the anonymous public, but to him I wish to say I miss, respect you, and I look forward to our inevitable return.
Me and Mr. Jones 
oh, longden. oh.
I remember a little wooden room stacked up with records I had never heard but sounded good to me. Later we spent 30 hours almost in a row writing about the sexual habits of a lady nicknamed “the crab,” among others. On that note, the following sentence would not have passed the joint committee on proofreading: “Specifically, how members of a community contribute to each other.” The minotaur, by the way, is indeed dead. Thanks goes largely to a daughter of The King and her spool of golden thread.