Mark texted to tell me that his uncle Eddie just died. He didn't say how. He just told me he was due to get on stage in about a half second. Eddie was young. I'd met him before. Lived in Perth. And he wanted so much to come home. Over there he worked and slept. Not much of a life outside the two.
And he was so lonely. He accumulated his leave for the year and came back to Malaysia. He would follow Mark around the musician's circuit. Or they would go fishing.
Mark sounded sad and in shock. But when with the help of my sometimes not so trusty GPS I found this place there he was, playing with Alvin, as nonchalant as a Christmas decoration. About the only indication I had that something was out of the ordinary was a song he chose to sing to end the first set: Swing low sweet chariot...looking to carry me home.
And just like that another person extinguished, falling into that deep abyss from whence no stories emerge.
This year has been full death and I just can't seem to find the people who fell in. I'm sure there must be some pattern in all this randomness. I just don't know what it is.
And I'm so tired.
Please, there's only a few more days in the year.
Please, no more.
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