I got a call this morning that my brother is doing fine and would be home later in the day, so my services will not be needed taking care of the invalid crew after all. I’ll have to go and see them some other time.
Later in the day, my brother called me himself to let me know he was home, exhausted from all the tests and being poked with needles and such, and on Percoset for the pain. He sounded well, but really really tired, so I’m happy and only a little worried now. I’ll probably hear from him again sometime tomorrow.
Once again I say goodbye to a trusty friend. You were a good pen, Zebra Sarasa, and you died too young. I leave you with feelings of sadness at having used you up, satisfaction that once again I used up a pen and didn’t lose you halfway through your life, and hope that one of your 20 or so brother Zebra Sarasas will serve me as well as you have. There’ll never be another pen quite like you. You were a unique snowflake, even though I couldn’t tell you from any of the other Zebra Sarasas to save my life when you were full of ink.
Goodbye, dear friend. May you enjoy all the benefits of pen paradise that are bestowed on pens that serve their masters well.