while he pondered, weak and weary.

Today is the birthday of Edgar Allan Poe, a home grown author, poet, editor, and literary critic. His short, tragic life provided ample material for his prolific stories.

Having been born with a black, twisted heart, I relished reading his dark stories. And in the dystopia that passed for normal home life, I fed that heart with more old horror comics, The Crypt, Night Gallery, Alfred Hitchcock and anything involving the walking dead and swamps. As Alan Rickman famously said in Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, “it’s a wonder I am sane.”

Or maybe that is the Sauvignon Blanc talking.

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