I was at the funeral of Vaugn Holgart, where his sour faced kids glared at my friend Karrie. This is because they got just enough to ensure they’d have to work and she got everything.
After the burial, Karrie and I shared some wine and she told me about the guest house Vaugn had left her.
I met her there the following week and liked the quiet, liked the little yacht she had. She knew how to operate it and we went way out into the centre of this large lake where we could talk.
Right now that was what I needed. I needed to talk. To talk with someone who knew and understood me.
I rang her, then packed, called the office, took two weeks. I sent Daniel a text about a family emergency and having to leave town.
And I left..