The Paternal Presence.

And what happens when there is no real eye in the sky. Gets your writing all garbled at the end.

This page technically counts. And you see, even though it’s mostly finished, I feel bad. Like I’ve cheated the reader in some way. So now I have to compensate. I have to do something to make up for all that blank space that should have had at least filler crap jammed into it. So this is what you get, when you obsess. You wish to offer ten legitimate pages, and so anecdotes like this one must go between the pages. How are we looking now? Are we about even?

How about one more line for good measure?

Good?

Good.

Phew.

That was a close call. 11:46PM CST.

-W.V.Carleton