We sit, we wait.  We sit.  We wait.  We.  Sit.  We.  Wait.  Another one of us gone.  Times are harsh, six months without a client and we're removed from existence.  It didn't use to be 'client', before that it was 'customer' and before that even I can't remember, something that would sound ridiculously archaic now.

I'm in good company in my last resting place.  A palette of people surround me. Saints, sinners, heroes, villains, lovers, professors, monsters.  These folk put the hue in humanity.

We knew our days were numbered but they became almost binary with the passing of the E-4all Act of 2021.  So now we mourn the latest swish of the executioner's blade.  There will be no more Benn Gunn, Jim Hawkins or John Silver, long or otherwise.  We sit lined up, waiting for our turn.  Our time will come soon enough.  The last printed books on the last shelf in the last library in London.  Yesterday we were eleven.  Now we are ten.