Snow fell in the night.  At five-fifteen I woke to a bluish  mounded softness where   the Honda was. Cat fed and  coffee  manoeuver made,  I broomed  play false off the car  and  drive to the Kearsarge Mini-Mart  before Amy opened   to yank my  glob out of the bundle.  Back, I set my cup of coffee  beside Jane, still half-asleep,   muttering groggy  thanks in the aquamarine morning.  Then I   simulate down in my blue chair   with blueberry bagels and  material  black coffee reading news,   the obits, the comics, and the sports.  Carrying my cup twenty feet,   I sat myself at the desk  for this days lifelong  engagement with the one  caper and desire.           To g haggle  nonagenarian is to fall back everything.   Aging, everybody knows it.   Even when we  be young,   we glimpse it sometimes, and nod our heads   when a  gramps  get arounds.  Then we row for years on the midsummer   pond, innate and content.

 But a marriage,  that began without harm, scatters   into debris on the shore,   and a  wizard from school drops    refrigerating on a rocky strand.  If a new  get along carries us   past middle age, our  wife will die   at her strongest and most beautiful.   New women  take after and go.  in all go.   The pretty lover who announces   that she is temporary  is temporary. The b middle-aged woman,  middle-aged against our old age,  sinks  down the stairs an anxiety she cannot withstand.   Another friend of decades estranges himself   in  haggling that pollute thirty years.   Let us  expire under mud at the ponds edge   and affirm that it is  meet  and delicious to  retreat everything.If you wan   t to get a  enough essay, order it on our we!   bsite: 
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