The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
September 4, 2004


The coastal highway was knotted up this afternoon. I didn't know when the Ski Haus closed, but that Mexican place near Malibu Canyon was calling my name. By the time I got down to Santa Monica, the place was shuttered. Curiously, that ad agency next door had a lot of activity. It's usually the other way around. I got home in time for the magic hour. Of course, all the lights were on for my return. That's something I do miss, turning on my own lights when I get home. It's been longer than you might think.

[signed] Nick

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