I enjoyed this. Something about it just felt right. Each chapter a brief memory. No forcing it to mean anything beyond what it is. Drops of recollection falling, as if spilling from a cup, over the timeline of a life. A little thin and not much impetus but there is a compounding charm like a pound of feathers. It’s brevity is it’s grace. Where do we go from here? (I might mention that there were a few typos)