September 2009.
Just once I'd like to be able to pull off a Humphrey Bogart-style farewell.
I'd like to say exactly the kind of thing you'd say right before tipping your hat, turning up the collar of your coat, and slowly exiting into the pouring rain. Something perfect and poignant, maybe a little self-effacing. The kind of goodbye you can leave behind knowing there's nothing more to be said, in a good way.
The rain always arrives on cue, but then the words fail me. Figures.
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