It appears that I am 38.
I had a good meal too at the local fancy french joint, our family’s traditional special occasion restaurant. I’m financially well off, mostly healthy, not dead yet. Ok, I’ll take it.
I’m pretty much still 22. Stopped there. I have no particular direction, no wife or girlfriend, no household of my own. I wonder if this just continues?
I scratch another year on the cell wall and look up at the sunlight coming through the bars…