I Want To Look Back. To Look

I've Always Loved Brainstorming With Other Writers, And I Consider Having My Work Critiqued A Part Of That Brainstorming.

My Breathing Begins To Slow. The Tension In My Muscles Starts To Relax. Then, A Click In The Headphones. A Slow Breath Of Air. I Open My Eyes To Bright Moonlight. And Hannah, With Warmth. Thank You.

That Is All That Happened. Why Did You Hear Something Else?

And Like I Said, I Didn't Know Him Very Well, But My Ears Perked Up Whenever I Heard His Name. I Guess I Wanted To Hear Something - Anything - Juicy. Not Because I Wanted To Spread Gossip. I Just Couldn't Believe Someone Could Be That Good. If He Was Actually That Good... Wonderful. Great! But It Became A Personal Game Of Mine. How Long Could I Go On Hearing Nothing But Good Things About Clay Jensen? Normally, When A Person Has A Stellar Image, Another Person's Waiting In The Wings To Tear Them Apart. They're Waiting For That One Fatal Flaw To Expose Itself. But Not With Clay.

And What If In The Future We're At War Again, Or We Still Haven't Elected A Non-white Or Non-male President, Or The Rolling Stones Are Still Dragging Their Tired Old Butts On Stage? That Would Depress Me Way Too Much.