Life was good. Was good, was good, was once, was great. So many things done, undone, the effort to count them all up. A life lived in pieces, in parts and in graces, a life loved alive and loved yet aliven't. What a funny old world. Yes, there had been others this way, she wondered to see them all soon, but if they were late she knew she'd be fine. She used to not believe in purple mares. She used to... Going where the one had gone. Except there wasn't one, but many. Family, and Love, and Two...and now One