It's always 4am somewhere in the world and you find yourself sitting, waiting for the 4am line to move overhead before starting to think about life, where you are in it and where it's taking you, and why it's not what you thought you wanted and not even what you needed, but you rationalize that it is a dream come true. Albeit someone else's dream. And all you want to do is wake up. And you do wake up - screaming. And it's always a Tuesday. And you're always waking up too late. Anyway. He called himself Frank, but his father named him Frankly. Just so that he would be able to end each letter with Yours, Frankly and be able to save one extra word. His father was an engineer, I'm sure you can tell.
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