The Rare Man asks me about Pink Cloud

I ran into the Rare Man on Telegraph Avenue today. He asked me:

“Hey Ace. Did Pink Cloud die? I heard from somebody that Pink Cloud died. Did Pink Cloud die?”

“Yes. Pink Cloud died,” i said. “He died last week.”

“Wow. Pink Cloud really died. I heard from somebody that Pink Cloud died.”

“Yes he died. He was 78. He died from luekemia.”

“Oh really?” said Rare. “Pink Cloud died?”

“Yes. He died. He had a full life. I saw Pink Cloud just a couple of weeks ago walking around on Telegraph. He lived a good full life walking around on two feet right to the end.”

“And he died?”

“Yes he died.”

I could tell Rare was trying to contemplate the larger subject of death and his own mortality by thinking about Pink Cloud’s death.

“How old are you, Rare?” I said.

“I’m 69,” said Rare.

“You’re in good shape for 69, Rare.”

Rare sat there for a moment and thought about it.

It was a poignant moment.

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