A Book Reread

I see, looking through a novel read long ago that most of the story I had overlooked or misunderstood. Strings of decades are often a compendium a journey disjointed by sinkholes and rockfalls; a digest often left undigested. If I perused that old book again went back with a red and blue pencil, it would no longer be an autobiography but an 'us' book. Fact is, you were my collaborators in these diverse plots, blameless participants in a tale I was creating heedlessly with not a few omissions and fictional asides.