that i would be all-but-off-the-grid, up by the russian river, when i get an email asking for an electronic file of a story . . . and then biting my nails the whole next day and the ride home, sitting atop the in-laws’ piled clothes and luggage to get into the computer hastily shoved in a corner and send it out in the middle of the night . . .
and then all was right with the world. my sweet cam and jess have a home at last. the pursuit of the whole is called love will be forthcoming in the next interzone, and i am still not quite believing it.