Death, where is thy sting?
-- For a short little while, I was like dead. Exhausted, with a fever and a cold too, after having helped out at the shipyard (boats are heavy) with putting ships to sea and now waiting for my own last coating of varnish to dry... I fell asleep in my heat. I faintly remember how my fellow Sunday sailors tried to wake me up (they had quite a hard time). So here you find Yours Sinc. in Charon's boat (q.v.) down on the River Styx, surrounded by forces ambiguous or malicious.
But fortunately, friendly swallows showed the way.
