It was black Monday; Penelope's was closed. But every cloud has a silver lining, so I anticipated a cup of black tea at Starbucks. I love the kids who work there. Their smiles make dismal rainy mornings brighter. Talin served up a cup of Earl Grey and reminded me that I take two packets of honey. How did she remember?
Immediately I went to work on my fourth rewrite of the great American novel. The din of a busy Starbucks morning did not inhibit my concentration, as I've been known to tune out a 122mm rocket attack.
I was flying through the paragraphs but began to feel the presence of a different message, a low audible tune that gradually became profound, overcoming my concentration. It was a Christmas carol, "Silent Night," sung by Annie Lennox. It was as though I had taken a drug and thereby had fallen into a coma of reflection. My eyes left the keyboard and I stared toward a different dimension.