|
He
may never have found the courage to begin again - knowing that certain prized
possessions could never be recovered. So perhaps it was just as well he
had taken leave of his senses, for he was thus spared the pain of reflecting
on his losses and lamenting the past. His memory - at least that which he
could draw upon - was as clear as a freshly wiped slate. And if at that
time he had been able to dote on his losses it would surely have been his
mind he'd have missed above all else. Often in the past he had landed on
his feet in troublesome situations, and so it was on this occasion. Fate,
having decreed to leave him stranded on the shores of a Northern isle, was
sufficiently kind to deposit him safely on terra firma. Ten feet further
to the north he might have awakened to find himself drifting on the icy
surf but positioned as he was the sea could not disturb him even at high
tide. But he did not think himself the recipient of good fortune for there
was barely an idea in his head. Had he opened his eyes and found himself
outstretched in a ditch or on a bed of nails he'd have been in no better
position to count or discount his blessings, for his memory was so submerged
such judgement were beyond him. |
|
