No. 79. A New Lightness of Being.  He had grown too serious, almost dour.  His habits had become predictable, his hours of work unprofitably monastic, his anxieties exhausting but unproductive.  Yesterday he bought himself a couple of bottles of French Rose (one was a sparkling rose), hoping he might thereby force himself into a certain frivolity.  He hadn't opened them yet.  He wondered if he ever really would.

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