It was never something I was able to discuss; it felt like too harsh a criticism, or a professional assassination of character. I was convinced you had a terror of empty spaces and now, everything I remember seems to support this notion. You were constantly filling your immediate surroundings with new sounds, scents, colours, textures and ideas. I wouldn’t have called it vivaciousness, even then. It was more like a constant weaving of spells to keep the vacuum of space at bay. When I learned about quasars, I was struck by the parallels of their bright lives and dark hearts. I wonder what horrors death must have held for you? If you could ever bear to contemplate it.

Now you’re gone, I trust the rest will be peaceful.

fearing nothing …
the irony of that
empty boast

David J. Kelly