The French have a phrase: 'mutilé de guerre'. Do you know it? 'I was mutilated by war.' I spend my day in the company of those mutilated by life, mostly beyond repair. I have always held to the belief that there are times, not times, moments, when the right word, emotion, single touch, might heal. I have held this though I know the workings of the world will not permit these... these words or emotions. There will be no grand gestures or interventions. They are all images seen through a glass darkly amidst my own decline. Did I mention I have been drinking?