9:04:54 AM and just starting this.  Like a reporter who gets to the beach after all the bodies are taken away.  Like a traveler who gets to the train station too late.  Like a firefighter who gets to the fire, not only after the fire is out, but after the cleanup is done, and all that is left are the disappointed glares of his brothers.  Like a doctor who gets to the corpse after it is washed and wrapped.  Like a lover who finds his beloved snoring.  Like a Prodigal Son who, on returning home to the familiar place where he grew-up, finds it paved-over for a mall.  Like an orphan. 

I am supposed to be at work at 9:00 AM.