First, I apologise, I have not made much progress on your book. My reading of it is punctuated by reverie. In that, as if entranced, it is especially compelling. I am beckoned back to places and to times – to glimpses under shadows – we have shared somehow. From the beginning, I have felt close to you. I do not know, why, but I feel, why. You have some blood that is mine, but that I have never known. I have some blood that is yours, but that you have never known. Please forgive me. My discoveries require exploration. Rest assured, I will be with you, despite and still, ’til always meets its destined end.