Friend—A word I have not truly grasped. Nor the letters that made up their names. They come and go like the London rain, washed down the drain. Who becomes one and the other not. I don't know them anymore nor them of myself. It flows back into the ocean and gets lost in the clouds. Then one fine day you get drenched walking home from the party and blame it on the weather for giving you a cold. Now, who was not prepared?