That I am grateful for, very much.  My friend Gilbert took such time with the story I asked him to read and gave me his results yesterday.  I was very impressed with the reason he explained how he came to the conclusions he had about my story, and I knew my hunch was right that he was the perfect person to read it.

He made some excellent suggestions, not changing the story or plot, but perfect tweaking.  He added touches on this first draft in the form of phrases that I want to incorporate into the story.  There wasn’t a lot of correction, but such constructive criticism.  Overall, he liked it, and suggested I hold onto it until an opportunity to submit for publication presented itself.  I understand what he’s saying.  As usual, when I write fiction, it’s a little strange, not supernatural, but strange, and a little dark but with light somehow shining through.   Grateful to him, and super impressed.  We shall see.

Well, as well as I felt yesterday is as bad as I feel this morning.  Weak, dizzy, a night filled with crippling leg cramps and awful dreams.  Staying home since I don’t trust myself to drive.  My leg is so sore from the leg cramps and I’m just sapped.  It’s raining; the most pressing things at work, like yesterday, are now done, and so for that matter, is my strength.

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