24. Maybe I wasn’t home alone, after all … not home, not alone.

I reclaim a galleon plundered by drunken pirates,

Brawl with brutish cowboys cruelly mistreating cute indian girls.

Fight through enemy lines – a brave foot soldier with no rank –  captured, tortured – eventually escaping to win the day.

A few hours “alone”, and I save the world!

Hero … but anonymous and humble.

Extra:

When they returned home perhaps I was all ready for bed – instead of a battle, maybe Roger broke into song for me:

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