Why do we miss things once they’re gone? Or… why do we stop appreciating something just because it becomes part of our daily grind? It’s like… we take it for granted until it pulls a Houdini and disappears.
Except food. I always miss it… even while I’m eating it. I’m like Homer Simpson with a never-ending craving for Pinchy…
And stories… infinite stories… like the ones Gandalf gets lost in while enjoying a second breakfast at Bag End.