Counting backwards

A while back, a certain very good professor friend put me on this blog. I had a read and promptly chucked into my Google Reader feed list, and every now again I thrilled to tales of HLS, the Brownie, the Eclaire, BB, Blaze and the humble author himself.

Ordinarily, the tales are entertainingly perceptive. Today, waiting for a bus in the biting Sydney winter cold, the story nearly moved me to tears. I'm not going to tell you the story; I wouldn't do it justice.

He's taken a profoundly personal story, and shared it completely freely. I have no idea how long it took to write, perhaps a couple of days. But it reads like it was just meant to be - so smoothly that about a third of the way through I realised I was cruising through the prose and had to stop, go back to the start and really read it.

It's not often something in the thousand or so items that dribble through my newsriver makes me do that.

Thank you, Magazine Man.