they would have liked each other.
A few days ago, I was checking out Bill's (one of my favourite contemporary writer) page, only to find out he died two weeks ago.
It unsettles me. The man had a pure heart, much like the four aforementioned people above.
When I used to write, I experimented with his writing style: it was very 50s/60s noir, very personal, sort of like how one's mind wanders while staring off into space in a coffee shop. And think about loss. love.life.
Love, mostly.
He seemed to get it.
Just like the four aforementioned did.
My favourite of his: Bad Poetry.
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