Day with the dead

I have an exeat to work in the Wellcome Library in London. I think the management were reassured that I would be surrounded by the works of the dead, written largely about their failure to stop others dying, usually of horrible conditions.

I like this place.

The dead are my friends. They always have been. They don’t argue, for one thing. They have world enough and time. Or neither. But either way, they are easy to get along with. And their tales of suffering are at least all over now, one way or another. Sic transit gloria mundi. Sic transit omnia.

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