He has no teeth when he laughs, there is just a wonder in his eyes, you asking me he says, what could be interesting about me; the school children are doing a survey of the aged, they are on a return visit to the retirement home; Old Murt laughs, My life, you want to know about it, the children nod. It was simpler then he says, he looks around him, there is disdain in his stare, used to care for the elderly, at home, at home he says to himself, in those days they did lots different. He doesn’t want to discourage them, they are young, and every generation strives to do it better, improve on it. Murt finds he isn’t tired the way he is when talking to the aged, his own age. Young ones are enthusiastic, energy, he can pick it up.
My life, Solomon sighed. He’d heard from a few climbing the mountain; they believe this and that, good at rituals, rules for food, times, it’s well laid out, not too hard to follow; Then Solomon sighed, if there is no love in it, what does it matter, My Life, amen.