I regret. I apologize. I blame myself. I continue as before.
Mild brown eyes beckon me to the past, but memory provides no clue.
The man in the street is always a stranger.
I'm being treated like a sex object, cried the lady. No matter. I will take care of it, said Time soothingly.
Sloth, not ill-will, makes me unjust.
The unknowable creates the greatest controversies.