Bits and Pieces: Print Requiem For Mark Smith

How do you sit next to someone for years and know very little about him? I'm culling memories from here and there, but it makes for an incomplete portrayal, like unrelated puzzle pieces with large portions of the overall picture absent.

My headline here is meant to be ironic. This effort is anything but lyrical. It is both difficult and necessary. I'd like to think that, after I grimace and fall for the final time, the person sitting on the other side of my cubicle would have specific, happy memories to ponder. I owe it to Mark to tell you his story, even though the thought of doing so would make him wince.