Seems really ironic now that one of the last conferences I attended was on Science and Morality. In New Orleans. How can a conference on Morality hosted in New Orleans NOT be ironic? Linda and I dipped out the side door for Bloody Marys as soon as the keynote speaker started lobbing quotes from Frankenstein at the room. And here I am now sitting smack dab in the middle of the swamp, alone, equal parts Victor and creature, waxing nostalgic and wondering how true it is that one man’s life is a fair price to pay for the knowledge we sought. But it’s not disgust I feel when I look upon the reflection of my creation on this lake’s surface. There’s no anger in me when I remember how eager Linda was to follow me into these woods. We both saw an opportunity to help mankind, to make forest where there was only sand. So we made it. Now, she’s dead, and I’m this. The Victor left in me paid what price had to be paid.  The creature, having known love once, carries the rage it needs to make things right.