Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes. Thanks to Jonathan Larson I know how many minutes there are in a year.
So as I’m writing this it’s now been five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred and sixty minutes since Dad died. It’s odd, to be able to know that. I won’t again, counting in minutes would be silly, it’s back to years and months after this. But it’s a number that fits snuggly into the musical phrase that was designed around it.
Over hills and far away... 