SO, Benson is on the bed, asleep. Rain is sleeping somwhere dark and quiet, hiding from all of us, and I am sitting here with loud electronic music playing as I stare into my three computer screens. I am about to head out to Concord to do preliminary interviews with Scott Cory.
Now Mike is on me about whether or not there's really a story here. By god, I will have a story on this if it kills me. Besides, I need the money. I can see why Mike wants to reel me in a little. I've been chasing this little kid for months, and only recently, aka tonight, will I be able to meet up with him as he climbs away at the gym.
But then the slowly dissolving putty liner in my head began to wear, and I found myself standing in a long pink hallway that could easily have been someone'sunmentionables. But as I could not place the place, I felt compelled to sit and wait for my muffled screams to reach the ears of someone on the outside world.