Even now we were on the boat, even now I was leaving, I was out at sea when all at once, like a lottery prize, Joy, she of the faithful memory, appeared and said, “It is I, Harken!” — and she swept me up, losing no time about it, and conducted me to that place from which we have come, all of us.

— adapted with apologies to Henri Michaud, who was born this day in 1899

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