Me: Thank God August is over.
Anthony: Okay, will do.
Me: Do what?
Anthony: I thought you asked me to thank God?
Me: Oh, I see….
Anthony: I felt it too, the August blues.
Me: Did you?
Anthony: Well, you know how I dislike winter.
Me: I didn’t think you got winter over there.
Anthony: No, but I felt for you.
Me: It wasn’t so much the winter; it was because it was the month you died. I thought I would get all sad on the 23rd but instead I was sad for the whole month. It was horrible.
Anthony: And now?
Me: Ever since the 1st of September – the first day of spring – it is as if a heavy fog has lifted.
Anthony: Good on you, Jules.
Me: I got a lot of comfort out of our conversations during August though.
Anthony: My pleasure.
Me: I don’t feel the need to talk with you as much now.
Anthony: You’ve said that before. Don’t worry – I will survive.
Me: Ha – ironic.
Anthony: You have a lot of living to do, Jules – at least another 20 years.
Me: If you had said that in August I would have felt daunted. Ming said my eyes went all dark.
Anthony: And now?
Me: Now I feel a sense of excitement.
Anthony: Shine on, baby!
Me: You too.
Anthony: I am so shiny now you would need your sunglasses.
Me: For some reason that conjured an image of nudity.
Anthony: You are so perceptive, Jules! I am at the naturist beach.
Me: Oh hell.
Anthony: No, this is heaven.
