The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
August 1, 2005

Ray

Just bumping around the house today, trying to make room for Constance. I had to throw out all my back issues of Photo, wasn't too happy about that. But in the process I found a letter Bob Shaw wrote me from Finland. Rereading it brought back many a memory. I can almost taste those raspberry boats he sent along with the letter. The marine layer is thick today. On days like this it renders the new skylights useless. They look only like large ceramic tiles that mock the beholder. Oh well. Manolo is doing his best. He has dialed up the Vitamin C today, but the sunshine is in the glass only. I am going to take an extra long sauna and perhaps when I get out the sun will have returned. Peace.