Strong like music It first began with Mozart's Requiem last evening, and since I have wrapped myself in warmth of jazz for a dull autumn day like this, when the sun hardly even fights the clouds, and as I walk the streets with my presence lost somewhere else, like New York in the 1940's, in a room with roses and a couch by the window overlooking the city, reaching out to the past and to love beyond my reach, with in sentiments and daydreams, taking delight in what may otherwise be painful, today is one of those rare days when loneliness, like everything in the end, does not matter at all.

Then I remembered her.