I’m not about to declare continental living a danger to one’s health, but I’m starting to wonder. What is it about small, isolated places surrounded or nearly surrounded by the uninhabitable sea? What can be heard in a heart that beats through a century?

 His name was Adolph Weidhaas. He was named Adolph before doing so would have been considered in poor taste. I know very little about him, but in some ways, I know entirely too much.

     I always planned to come back for a visit. I’m just now thinking how abandoned Attaway must have felt out here. Like the last boy left in Texas.