___
The man who walked the beach that morning was still the adored Professor. Even with his retirement, he had more than enough to do. His step was light and his cheeks were ruddy with the complexion of a brisk walk in the wind.
Later he sat at his desk, the little electric fireplace once again settled near his feet. He was finishing a letter.
Jack,
Though you are gone these years, I still find it comforting to address an undeliverable missive to you, old friend. I find that for all my labours I have collected only a few leaves, many of them now torn or decayed.
But then I look upon this northern sea, and I know these same waters have borne to long voyages many of those that I have imagined. The world continues much as you and I have discussed. New leaves will come from those that seek that Tree of Tales.
And with that I am happy.
Ah, but that we could rejoin the sluggards at the Bird and Baby!
Your friend,
J.R.R.T