Yet it is a hard card to play, this need I feel to reassure family and friends, to give them news, pictures, life—to bestow that infinitely precious thing, the little invisible plant called hope. Logic shouts at me to play the game alone, without burdening myself with the others. Logic would have me run SE, far from land, far from ships, back to the realm of the westerlies where everything is simple if not easy, leaving well to the north the dangerous area of the convergence. But for many days another voice has been insisting ‘You are alone, yet not alone. The others need you, and you need
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