Don’t ask me. During the week I think
of what might work for my Sunday blog.
A few paragraphs, or four, enough to write what
might be of interest.
With it done, reworked several times, I hit either
‘save’ or print it.
Today I hit whatever and it was gone. Gone, as they say, with
the wind.
My wife, Rosanne, tried desperately to find it
“It’s gone, Clarke,” she said. “Sorry.”
Her words were my worst nightmare.
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