It seemed that his car had broken down again and heneeded a lift to look at another used car. I doubt that even he couldkeep track of all the used car... he has gone through these past fewyears. He has a bad habit of buying clinkers.I picked him up at his mother's house shortly after dinner and we beganthe ninety minute trip to the next prospective car. Unfortunately whenwe finally got there it turned out to be a waste of our time.The drive back was not looking too promising. We had to get off. They wrote their own story. He described it as opening the window on their world, watching them awhile, then slamming the window and quickly writing what he saw. Their flaws appeared in the story, just as they should. It’s an amazing concept. I began to wonder if I had any rich characters in me. Late May 2006, I felt someone inside wanting to tell a story. While I’d normally ignore it, I felt the need to leave a door open so that character could walk out, or I could walk into his world. I had. More

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