So it goes.

Kurt Vonnegut died on April 11th 2007. He was 84 and had suffered a major head injury which had caused brain damage.

At 22 or so, he had been captured by Nazis and was forced to gather corpses for cremation. Prior to that, his mother had committed suicide. Years later, his sister would die of cancer. In the year 2000, a fire destroyed his records.

It’s been years since I read any of his writing and I certainly haven’t read enough for someone who periodically gets accused of writing in the man’s style on occasion.

It seems as if the world’s color saturation is approaching gray and any debating the fact is a game of semantics.

So it goes.

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