Harold and Maude: An Intimate Musical,

There is a curious paradox that no one can explain. Who understands the secret of the reaping of the grain? Who understands why Spring is born out of Winter’s laboring pain, or why we must all die a bit before we grow again? I do not know the answer; I merely know it’s true. I hurt them for that reason, and myself a little bit too.

As a writer, Harold has been unswerving for 50 years,

I like an intimate crowd.

Harold emphasized to me the importance of including my own salary in any cost projections that I had done.

Then my cell phone buzzes again. I can’t quite get it out of my pocket because my arm is so bloody. Astley reaches down and pulls it out for me.
“You’re blushing,” he says.
“You just reached in my pocket. It’s kind of intimate.”
He smiles a wicked smile and hands me the phone. “There is candy in here as well.”
“Skittles,” I explain. “I like them.