Tonight for the first time in a long time I felt a cold wind come in through the open balcony door. It was a reminder that summer is rapidly coming to an end, if it hasn’t already.

For as long as I can remember, this time of the year has always been full of regret.

For all the days I should have been out in the sunshine.

For all the nectarines I should have devoured.

For all the pretty girls I should have kissed.

I have a birthday coming up on the day after Sept. 11th. Talk about mixed emotions. This year, though, I’ll be in the air on Sept. 11th, flying from Cape Town to Johannesburg to Amsterdam to Kafkaville. And I’ll still be in the air a good part of my birthday.

My dad once wrote me an excellent birthday card, where he asked:

What was your greatest moment?
Your biggest victory?
Your best memory?

– Your next one.

Maybe next year I’ll get around to all those nectarines.

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