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103 pages, Kindle Edition
First published December 29, 2012

“Dear God, sir,” he laughed, his smile wide and bright, “it isn’t often you get to watch your own death flying towards you across the water. It’s just as the poets say. It’s sublime!”
“No man is an island, entire of himself,” says John Donne, but two may be, together, needing nothing else.”
I think of it as a message in a bottle, cast out into the seas of time. May the future reader know what we have not been permitted to say in the present: that we were happy. And that we were true to one another through the loss of all things. It is important to me that someone should bear witness to our love.I really enjoyed reading Blessed Isle and, as I said, I would have loved to read a longer story focusing on the two characters.
No man is an island, entire of himself, says John Donne, but two may be together, needing nothing else.
Why do I want to leave his record? Why not leave our story untold? My need to confess may be the death of us both. But it leaves a bad taste in my mouth that this love should go unrecorded, that posterity should judge men like myself – like him –But one day, perhaps, when the words has grown kinder, this journal will be read by less jaundiced eyes. To them I will be able to say there was fidelity here, and love, and long-suffering sacrifice, and joy. To them I will be able to speak the truth.
When we woke that first morning, we made love. Nothing needed to be said; we both understood it would happen as soon as we had the physical resources to allow it. It was sweet and weary and gentle, just kisses and the stroke of callused palms.