To be continued . . . .

Even though I am thoroughly convinced that my mom is my only fan, and that she only reads this fab story when I print it out for her, I want to say that I'm so sorry for missing last Friday's post. My muse abandoned me a Wednesday ago for a spot playing keytar in a camera commercial, and then I caught SARS on an interminable Southwest flight to the Windy City, where the Hancock Tower reminded me of Batman again. Which is all a long-winded way of saying that it's time to go to bed, even though I am nowhere near done with my fourteenth slice. If you check back next week, you might find the thrilling conclusion, replete with CIA cunning, masquerading as post #15.

Sweet dreams,

s.