The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
November 18, 2004


I spent the first recent morning with a decent cloud cover in the grey room, reading out of town papers. I get into reading them and suddenly out of it. It's a strange habit. It's good to see the point of view from other places, I suppose. I introduced myself to Ishii's housesitter yesterday and not by choice. Ishii's septic system is on the fritz and this poor guy is handling all the service calls. With Manolo busy interviewing kitchen assistants, I brought over a pitcher of virgin iced tea that Manolo brews fresh from long leaf bruised sinensis. He didn't seem dangerous, so I invited him over. He seemed to share my blue mood. We buried our discontent in a serendipitous episode of Who's the Boss? in the billiards room. Diary, we buried it deep.

[signed] Nick

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