So I Picked On You

I was still sitting in bed, drinking tea, when Son the Younger phoned. 

'I've just got into work,' he said. 'Mum, have you seen the news?'

'No. What's up? Has someone died?'

'Yes.' He paused. 'You're not going to like it.'

'Oh no,' I wailed, 'not Leonard!'

'No. Leonard's OK.'  

And then I knew. I phoned Liz, my friend of 51 years' standing, and got her voicemail. 

'Have you heard the news? God, I can't believe it. I just - I had to phone someone - '

The next words, unthought-of until that moment, came out in a croaky lump.

' - soIpickedonyou.'

Thank you, David Bowie.  Thank you so very much.