Last night, for the third time, I dreamed of nameless; Let everyone remember the certainty that death can bring; for my friend is dead. I saw him.
What was peculiar was not what was necessarily what was happening, but a short dialog between he and I. "But I've had to deal with this; I had to shut to this down," I said to him.
I have been dealing with this. Today was his birthday, and on this day I know he sleeps: a sleep in anticipation of the resurrection; a sleep that one day we all will drift into; only to wake to the judgement we all will face.