The following is a work of fiction.

Not Nick Nolte's Diary, Malibu, California
March 9, 2005

Hunter

I had not wanted to mention his passing last week, Diary. Forgive me for not wishing to go there, as Leon says. I keep searching for his words as I write this. As he might put it, there would certainly be a particular noblesse oblige at work if he helped me from beyond. You can't say he merged with the infinite because he checked that off the list around 1970. You can't say he bought the farm because he did that too, around 1985 I think. To be honest, Diary, I only write this because my friend in the magazine biz wants me to pen a item about him for the Atlantic Monthly. Well, we flew kites together on the high desert pretty regularly at one time. Hmm. At this rate, the photo will have to be quite large. Peace be upon him.