I get up. I feel like something is missing. Spectecles, Wallet, Watch... no, nothing is truly out of place. I glance at my gym bag, leaning against the wall, and then I remember. Douglas Adams is nolonger with us.

Something is missing. Someone. "Don't panic," I tell myself, "Don't panic..."

I remember the restaraunt at the end of the universe, a small smile warms me.

Still, I miss him so.

DNA by T.J. Phoenix 2006