My friend Nora says I’m living in the past. I know she’s right. The past is my refuge, a safe haven from a disappointing present, where each day seems equal to the previous one, with no good surprises, no joy, no enthusiasm, no exciting happenings… just this terrible solitude. And this past is a mix of the more distant years, decades ago, when I was young and reckless and life was a source of excitement – it …
