My hands used to create magic. I think with the increasing demands of adulthood, they've had their spark pulled right out of them. My little sister's hands still glisten with it, but I fear her hunge ... [+]
I am waiting for Bernard. He should have been here at 10:30, and it's already 10:32. Something is wrong. Bernard is never late. When I'm even a tiny bit slow in getting to our daily game, Bernard has a field day taking me to task. He says to me, "Now then, Arab, are you trying to prove that the people who say you're lazy are right?" But I don't reply. I just smile, and that bothers him even more. Bernard is my friend; he's the only one I've ever had. We've never really talked, but I think real friends don't need to tell each other they're friends...well, that's what I think anyway.We've been m