His name is Marcello.

Maybe lonely people lack love. As I see it, they wouldn’t be lonely. If they were in love. With someone. Or something. They wouldn’t necessarily have to be loved. All they need. Is to feel love for something. Such as nature. Or with an intellectual endeavor. With books, for instance. Or with the fine arts.  To be occupied. With a sense of love. That’s the stimulus. That makes one feel alive. And with it. It’s sad to think. That some people may be incapable of true love.  Of something or other. By the way, my cat Loverboy died recently. But I’m getting on. No longer grieving. Yes, another true love. Another cat. He’s four months old. Very rambunctious. His name is Marcello. Neither one of us is lonely. --Jim Broede