Life, such as it is, goes on. Dillon's is still open from seven a.m. to twelve midnight, seven days a week.
I am the cat who walks alone. And to me all supermarkets are alike.
I am drinking Dillon's fresh-squeezed orange juice and eating farm-fresh eggs out of an egg cup I bought in Amsterdam. Wimpy rolls, nuzzling my feet, purring I love you I love you I love you. He loves me.
Meeeowww. "Hello, Bill."
The distance from there to here is the measure of what I have learned from cats.
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