Jack of Harts

I remember the celebration at Old New York like it was yesterday.  I found myself with old friends, some of the few who survived the fall of Yosemite.  They held me together.  Well, they say that we held each other together, but they were always stronger than me.  Don’t trust them if they say anything different.  They met me in Old New York and we celebrated the fact that we still lived.  Not that we won.  Just that we lived.  It was a really awesome night.