Flame, Glass and Ink are Poems, essays, and reading notes by Stefania Joori Suh

Tag: episode

  • Rational Optimist

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    Paul was still struggling to repel a hangover from last night’s spirited social with the town’s business committee chaired by Kohn Elephant at his elegant mansion. It was a nice occasion to meet with other men of his age who owned means of business either solely or jointly in the town. Besides, such evening social could provide Paul a chance to get away from Pula’s tittle-tattling about drudgery of household management, such as a need to have a leaking sink pipe fixed, writing checks for their monthly dues, setting up a weekly sales agenda for their Bonjour Cake Shop. Paula may be an excellent housewife dedicated to the wellbeing of her family with frugality, she seemed to be out of touch with sweet malibriety that had delighted Paul before their daughter Laura was born. That was what Paul was missing from Paula. That was what kept himself away from Paula.

    photo (4)“I will have a slice of Pecan Pie and a cup of cafe au lait.” Paul ordered his staple morning diet at La Boum and then started reading the newest issue of the Times. He scanned the front page to see if there was anything interesting except articles regarding sports, entertainment,  and politics – yes, politics, which Aristotle once said that anyone not interested in politics should be either a divine being or a beast. Paul was unsure of which of the kinds he would belong to, depending upon his mood of a day, but it wasn’t simply his cup of tea because it’s all a reality show. Of course, Paul being a good citizen casts his vote in gubernatorial, mayoral, general, not to mention, presidential elections. But the idea of politics as a subject looks too grim and pompopus and prepertorial. Paul’s vision of the world is of a Rational Optimist equipped with bookish knowledge and abstract ideas about humanity balanced with his sharp intelligence.

    However, Paul loves to read about those farcical world leaders whose scurrilous remarks on their political nemesis done in equally outrageous gestures or facial expressions all in captured in the eye of camera. At the moment, Paul’s prime interest was fixated on Jong-Un Kim, the puffed up man in anachronistic Mao suit tyrannizing the northern half of the Korean Peninsula.  That fat man sure had guts to defy the international rules and regulations to respect human rights in all defiant manners. Paul thought to himself while reading an article about Kim’s turning surly over the joint military drills executed by U.S. and S. Korea last week. You gotta be kidding, Paul could not believe that this so-called a leader of a nation could possible act like a spoiled kid. And Paul would love to discipline him by every possible civil means of chastisement. For what else can work for such a short-fused, ruthless despot running his country as it were a huge concentration camp – a bigger, more surreal version of Far Eastern Auschwitz camp? Paul was also going to follow up on whether or not the US – North Korea summit meeting on disband N. Korea’s nuclear programs  would be indeed held on June 11th in Singapore, a rich city-state in Far East because he would love to know if Kim would show up in a Mao suit again at such a historic meeting. He would bet $50.00 for Kim’s materialization in the ugly communist uniform.

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  • Good People, Good Food at La Boum

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    It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of technology and information, it was the age of rationalism, it was the epoch of you-could-do-anything, it was the epoch of upstart, it was the season of Hope, it was the season of Despair, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair… That was how Randy Beaver was thinking while  reposing his starving self  at a snack cart on a sunny Tuesday afternoon. Randy had been seeking employment since he lost a job as a warehouse manager of Pony Express due to company restructuring, but the Fates had not seemed to wink at him just yet. Nevertheless, his evergreen positive mindset and go-aheaditiveness made him vigilant of falling into a bottomless pit of despondency. Besides, the fact that he was a head of his dear family kept him going in spite of all adversaries trying to dispirit him.

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    “Okidoki. So what’s new in today’s newspaper? Hmm…  A Mountain lion crossed a freeway through a culvert that was about as long as two football fields in Santa Caritas. That must have been quite an adventure for the guy! What a spirit of fortitude and courage! And what else fascinating? Wait a moment! I can’t believe this!” Randy’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and incredulity mixed in wonder as he was reading a notice section, in which Avonlea’s new real estate developer named John Elephant was selling a derelict building on the 3rd Avenue at a half of the original price.

     

     

    “I have “$50,000.00 in my saving account at the bank, which is enough to buy the building. I can convert it into a nice French restaurant with my being a chef myself. Thanks to my culinary skills inherited from my father who was of a great French cook originally coming from Lyon, I can cook a variety of delicious French meals in homemade style.” Hereupon, the rest of the story became the genesis of Randy’s new and exciting business adventure. What had  once been derelict, nondescript building was a cozy pretty French restaurant named, La Boum, meaning the party in English, which his lovely wife Brenda thought fantastic befitting the menu and the atmosphere they would provide to their customers.

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    Randy’s specialty was Swiss-styled Raclette made with cheese from Alsace, where his distant paternal cousins live and  provide the best of the ingredients for La Boum at honest prices. In this way, Randy could cut off avaricious middle men and become cost-effective, so that he would devote himself to the quality of the menu he afford to his customers who would regard La Boum as a fine restaurant where delicacy of the food would awaken their taste buds in an ambience quaintly and fabulously mixed with urban sophistication and charming rusticity which can attract a variety of different patronage, ranging from urbanites to rural folks.

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    Needless to say, Randy’s first customers were Brenda and Betty, for they’re the best and most discriminate gourmets unafraid of honest opinions of the food they tasted based upon their excellent faculties of taste in combination with spiritual abilities to look into the hearts and souls of whoever makes the food. Surely, Randy’s crepe for Brenda and Seaweed salad for Betty were a feast they wholeheartedly enjoyed. With such delicious menu with fine culinary skills acknowledged by his most punctilious connoisseurs of food, plus a good moral character, Randy’s business success will be a logical consequence, which echoes what Ralph Waldo Emerson addressed to the audience two centuries ago as follows:

    Knowledge, plus a good moral character ensues business success.

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  • Lunchtime at Snoopy Cafe

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    A new cafe is opened in Avonlea. “Snoopy Cafe” is the name of the venue selected by Ms. Katherine Cookson, the propriteriotess of great culinary skills and business acumen originally from Dublin, Ireland. Before opening up Snoopy Cafe, Ms. Cookson used to work as a head manageress at a popular pub called, “Irish Spring” in New York City for thirty good years. With her lifetime saving and investment from stocks she has sagaciously sold when the market trend was very favorable to her, Ms. Cookson was able to start her own business in her own accord. And voila! Since the opening of the cafe two weeks ago, it has been bustling with virtually all the residents of the town as well as customers from the neighboring cities who have become her regular customers hooked on her savory food made on premises on a daily basis served at affordable prices ranging from $6.50 to $20.00 for lunch and dinner menus.

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    The cafe is needless to say what a cafe should be like in terms of the quality of food it serves to customers at prices that do not break their banks and its atmosphere; i.e., whether it has a pleasant, comfy ambience that attracts both  sensitive souls who delve into reading and writing with coffee or tea and gregarious spirits who like to confabulate with their ilks or friends on things interesting to them.  That is to say, Snoopy Cafe can become your elbow room during lunchtime out of the stuffy offices to refresh your minds or at dinnertime when you want to stop by to compose your stress-overwhelmed spirits, or to meet with your select few to get together.

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    Sally has become one of the regular customers of Snoopy Cafe since the last Monday lunchtime when she accidently found out the existence of this new cafe; actually she had heard about it through the grapevine at the office, but never bothered to try it on her own because being painfully shy and a habit of creature, she had no auspicious audacity to go there by herself and check it out. Then – maybe it’s because of the beautiful weather or her acquisition of a new ipad her aunt Mary had bought for her that emboldened her caged spirit- at one Monday lunchtime, Sally finally recognized the store sign of the cafe while waiting for a green light to cross the street. “So there is that popular cafe… Maybe I can try it today.” So the history of her elbow room has begun.

    IMG_3956Aura Magoo whose husband owns and operates a seven-eleven type of convenient store nearby stops by at the cafe with her new friend Bonnie Poodle, who is opening a new French bistro at the end of the month with the trust fund bequeathed to her by her deceased paternal grandmother in France.So Bonnie wants to share her excitement for her impending new entrepreneurship for the first time. Aura, the prettiest lady in the town, is in fact secretly jealousy of Bonnie’s financial and social independence as a single woman because she has to rely on her husband’s (named Zeus) monthly allowances to her for tending household and other expenses.  Of course, she would not manifest her true feelings on the outside because she accepts it as a fact of life which she has to bear  with smile, now that she has married with three children named “Apollo, Artemis “Mina”, and Hercules “Herk.” All this complex of emotions and feelings while having a bowl of veggie salad and listening to Bonni’s rhapsodizing about her imminent business enterprise is on the brink of manifestation on Aura’s pretty face, but she manages to quell it by forcing herself to turn to the delicacy of the salad with a cup of red tea, her favorite cup of tea.

    IMG_3957Mary is taking a repose from her popcorn operation, opting for a Lunchtime Pick-Me-Up Sundae at the prices of $3.00 as a lunch special, instead of a meal set. Mary has a sweet teeth and loves to appreciate quality sweets regardless of calories, for calculation of calories at every eating time is thought ridiculously fastidious to her. After all, every edible element has calories, and just because you live on greens or proteins, it does not guarantee you optimal health, let alone svelte body. As one of the ancient epithets inscribed on the wall of the Oracle of Delphi, “Nothing in Excess” should be Rosetta Key to healthy body, beautiful body, and sound mind. In other words, if you do everything you do in moderation, you will never be led astray.

    IMG_3958While having her afternoon pick-me-up, Mary is joined by Brenda Beaver, wife of Randy Beaver, who has just lost a job as a head mechanic at “Troika Auto Body Shop” in the city as the shop went bankrupt three months ago. Thanks to his long years with the shop over ten years, Randy has been receiving his unemployment benefits that go straight to this household which has also been supported by Brenda’s income earned from her cleaning service on request. Randy has been thinking about his and his family’s future seriously but doesn’t let it shown lest he should lose confidence and hope. But his wife Brenda knows it all and understands his pathos, so she acts like she does not know any trouble in the world to keep up with Randy’s confidence as well as hers, for they have Betty and Billy, their apples of the eyes. Since Mary knows Brenda’s present family circumstances, she treats her with a swell luch of homemade-style spaghetti, one of many Mrs. Cook’s signature dishes.

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    Snoopy Cafe  latently serves as an agit in which you can read and write however long you may like without ordering any more than what you want – say, a cup of black coffee or tea only – amid Baroque or Classical music or Pop-Classic music, such as any piano pieces of much written and played by Richard  Clayderman. Viewed in this light, Snoopy Cafe is meant to be a niche for any timid soul wandering desperately to rest the weary soul with good lite food just to refresh the soul for the other half of the day to make it a grand finale. Moreover, there are no vagrants importuning to patrons of the cafe, menacing money  with offish attitudes in uncivilized manners, for even though tramps are not to be despised, neither are their present abject conditions, such depravity does not/should not confer on them right of rudeness, incivility, and solicitation without a sense of civil obedience and societal codes of conducts that are essential to be citizens with money or not, all of which is overlooked for the sake of liberal/libertine ideology that gives no regard for societal values so crucial to the communal life. And all of the customers of the cafe want to keep their new elbow rooms untainted by such political ideology that does not care for the importance of civility in the name of equality.

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  • The Avonlea Story – Fruits, Cakes, and Popcorn

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    Uncle Willie has recently started his private enterprise of selling organic fruits from his at affordable prices in the town of Avonlea. A proud proprietor of his new business venture, Willie’s business prospect is full of auspicious anticipations of making high profit; his business motto is “Honesty makes best policy,” which is a quotation from Cervantes, the author of Don Quixote. Also, Uncle Willie has adopted a business principle of Sam Walton, the founder of “Walmart” who became a business tycoon by means of a mass sale at everyday low prices. But above all this business blueprint for his new enterprise of fruit wagon, Wille’s goodness of heart and simplicity of character, not to speak of his freshy organic fruits picked up from his farm in Green Gable, is the mainstay of his economic and social activities. With his innate diligence, the fruit wagon opens from 8:00 am to 7:00 PM, Mondays to Saturdays at 113 Kingsbridge Street nearby Elysian Park. The fruits are so fresh and scrumptious that you will always come back for more.

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    The news that his fruits being tested like Ambrosia of Mount Olympus traveled fast all over the town. It’s the case of great power of the grape vine, especially when it is stirred up by women. Brenda Beaver took her daughter Betty last Monday to Uncle Willie’s fruit wagon to to see if she could be a regular customer of his establishment because Betty’s priority was to take utmost care of the health of her family. And Voila! It’s no surprise to see Betty enthralled by the pretty sight of her favorite fruits that looked all lovely to her beady eyes: Grapes, Bananas, Apples, Melons, and so forth… Betty wanted all, but in accordance with her family motto of “Moderation is a Virtue,” she ended up choosing a melon, a bundle of bananas, and an orange.  Her mother Brenda encountered Laura Collie, the co-owner of the “Bonjour Cake Shop” with her husband Paul Collie in the town, who also came to check the new wagon establishment. Of course, the housewives of Avonlea raved about the freshness and affordability of Uncle Willie’s organic fruits, which meant that his business success was a foregone conclusion.

    IMG_3892The “Bonjour Cake Shop”is also a new enterprise in Avonlea; Operated by Paul and Laura Collie originally from Scotland, the cake shop has also been busy with newly acquainted customers in the town who come back to taste the homemade cakes for all occasions. The cakes are all made by Laura, who is no only a fine seamstress but also a lovely patissier who learned the art of cakes by working at the famed Patisserie Valerie in London in her maidenhood. In fact, making cakes and cookies has been Laura’s true passion because that’s what she really likes; however, she first had to deprecate her love of making cakes to support her family along with her husband Paul in a new land by working as a highly skilled seamstress. So when she and Paul (who was employed as an assistant manager at a supermarket) saved enough funds to start their own private business, they chose to open a cake shop without hesitation. Surely, Laura’s spirit was elevated when she and Paul signed the contract for the shop at a real estate agent’s office a month ago.

    IMG_3904Laura’s cakes are of supreme quality, second to none in comparison with the cakes of  Patisserie Valerie or Laduree or Pierre Herme because first of all, the cakes are all made fresh by Laura herself whose culinary skills are divine. Besides, she makes all her cakes with utmost care for authentic pleasure that can make her customers truly happy when they taste her cakes. In fact, it’s not merely a kind of eatery but a creation of art that provides people with genuine pleasure of life. Viktor E. Frankl, the founder of Logotherapy attests to this principle by telling us that a moment of pleasure, such as from listening to our favorite piece of music, doing things we enjoy, or appreciating a pleasurable sensation therefrom, can equal to a meaning of happiness, which is not at all a grand abstract idea. In like manner, Laura’s homemade cakes can be a good source of happiness to her customers regardless of who they are.

     

    Sally’s sundry wagon is also newly launched; it has popcorn cooked on premise according to her aunt Mary’s family recipes from England passed down from generations. Topped with butter and salt per request, Sally’s Popcorn cups are sold like hot cakes at $1.50 for each. In addition, she also sells candies and cold beverages, all less than $2.00 per each. She likes to talk with her customers when her spirits feels jovial and delightful. Judging her as a moody person is injustice to her true character, however. Sally is something of an artist who wants to dabble many things that she has in mind to express herself against self-doubt and obscurity. She’s well-read, compassionate, and creative. But she does not suffer the fool, the uncouth, and the uncivil gladly. After all, she is just very honest about her feelings and acts upon her principles, for how can one always smile and be pleasant like a robot? Hasn’t anybody heard that a psychopath can be extremely pleasant?

    So the new enterprises by enterprising spirits are well established now. They might look a bit anachronistic for the modern time and incongruent to today’s business trend as regards to the business principles set by the owners as aforesaid. But nothing is insignificant or less meaningful in the sense of size or value than any of their contemporary competitors in other places. However simplistic their business ventures may seem, what’s important is their dedication to their work and care for the people they serve, which has become a rarity in our today’s society.

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  • Episode VI – Welcoming Uncle Willie in Avonlea

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    Sally Lamb of The Calico Times

    When Sally Lamb, a resident reporter of the town’s one and only newspaper “The Calico Times” heard the news from Mr. Randy Beaver, an able-bodied mechanic who also functions as a town’s great plumber, that his distant maternal uncle named Mr. William Rustis had arrived in the town a week ago, her journalistic instinct prompted her to meet him in person. Besides, there had been no newcomer to this small town where urbanity meets rurality, teeming with a peculiar charm of fairy-tale like atmosphere created by the affably plumb and flurry appearances of the residents.

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    Sally gives a ride

    So she drove to Dryad Park, where Mr. Rustis was reported to be seen with his camping belonging days and nights. When Sally got to the entrance of the park, she could see who Mr. Rustis was without a ray of doubt; a big sombrero, an orange-colored scarf tied in the fashion of a boy scout, a large and hefty frame, most of which was dominated by his wide waist circumference, and most of all, a striking grinning that was instantly recognizable of him even in a far distance. There he was, her Interviewee Of The Day.

     

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    Mr. William “Willie” Rustis

    “H~~~~i, There ! I’m here!” was the exultant voice of Mr. Rustis with a Great Grinning. Sally, being always shy in public but bold in pen, was embarrassed by such an exuberant welcoming, when she would be the one who would welcome her interviewee to make him feel comfortable to have a good, productive interview result. ‘Thank God’, Sally thought to herself while scurrying toward the Man with Great Grinning by the fountain, the interview site. “There are just a few people in the park now. Is he a sane man as Mr. Beaver said of his uncle?… What if he dos not talk sense?… What if he bursts out a sudden fit of tantrum?… A man with such a seemingly perpetual grinning on his face will never be a sane man after all. I’d better finish this interview as quickly as possible.” So much mental ado was straining Sally’s sophisticated inner world as she was approaching closer to her subject.

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    Always Affable Uncle Willie

    “You must be Ms. Sally Lamb! I am Willie Rustis, Randy Weaver’s old uncle. He told me many good things about you! Boy, aren’t you a lovely darling? You must have may boys and men who orbit around you. Don’t you? Ha! Ha! Ha! I’m darn glad to be interviewed by a lovely lass today! Randy didn’t tell me that you were! He just told me that you’re a good writer of a newspaper. By the way, what’s the name of your newspaper?” Sally was both stunned by his extravagant greeting, which was actually quite pleasing and flattering because she was renowned for her somewhat austere tendency toward strangers and people whom she regarded mentally benighted, especially men. Besides, she did not think herself as the “It” girl. “How do you do, Mr. Rustis. I work for “The Calico Times, the one and only newspaper of Sylvania.” Shall we begin?” “Oh, well! Sure! But please call me Willie. Being called Mr. Rustis makes me feel like I am senile! I am and always will be Willie! Ha! Ha! Ha!,” was the beginning of the day’s interview. And lo, it was a productive, intriguing interview as set forth in the following narrative of Mr. Rustis:

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    Willie reading the newspaper

    Well, it’s been— I don’t know the exact numbers of days I have been spending so far in this new place, but it almost feels like a week or so. I could have gone to Randy’s as he himself and his lovely wife Brenda insisted – and they still insist! – and stay there until now, but I opted out for living here in the nature because I want to know more about this new place and feel the atmosphere myself in the most natural way, uninhibited by any superficial ways that creature comforts usually afford. Not that it’s bad, but that’s not my way of knowing a certain new thing. Maybe it’s because I’ve been a soldier too long, but I guess it’s in my nature. And in terms of the residents of this town, it’s hard for me to appraise their characters, tendencies, personalities, and so forth at this time. And people are people. As long as humanity exists, as it did thousands years ago, and it has been in existent thus far, there’s on one either extremely evil or angelically good.

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    Willie’s books and map

    I must say, it’s a life of pioneer in the West at this juncture. Thanks to the generosity of the park administration, I can stay here as long as I don’t cause fire and keep the place clean. Although I don’t have a tent, I have a good old army sleeping bag that I still keep from the Glory Days of The Cavalry, some food provided by good Randy and his lovely wife Brenda on a weekly basis, a radio, and books! I am a librophile, a term I coined to mean a book lover. I love reading nonfiction on the subjects of ancient history, mythology, and the Classics. Right now, I am reading Plutarch’s Lives, which is just wonderful to read! You know that Plutarch himself was Greek, but could understand the Latin language, although not to the apotheosis of lingual perfection, and could write about all those great ancient figures of the time immemorial!

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    Uncle Willie talking

    In fact, I am talking in terms of Logotheraphy, the third Viennese School of Psychoanalysis found by Dr. Viktor E. Frankl. Yes, I read his book Man’s Search for Meaning. I know it inside and outside. Well, do I? But once in a while, you need to keep yourself detached from the crowd to ponder about what you have seen in Reality that shapes your mind in the way you perceive the swing of things in the world in your own way, all in order to establish your own Reality. Well, right now I am having the moment, a moment of laughing about my anxieties and anguish about myself and future. And this won’t last long, for in fact, next week Randy will help me set up some small business to start. And going from there, I will see if I can move onto the next big thing, another new step to climb up my Alpine Path, so steep but so worthwhile.

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    Sally writing at the end of the day

    It was indeed a stellar Interview of The Day. What began with Sally’s uneasiness with her unknown subject ended on a high note -with a kindred spirit. Willie was an embodiment of living Logotheraphy, a human endeavor to live in quest for meaning of life. Also, Willie was something of an intellectual, a man who practiced what he preached like George Orwell, one of the favorite writers Sally admires all the time. With her Traveler’s Notebook full of wonderful accounts of the interview, Sally drove back to her home to type them, to publish urbi and orbi about a man extraordinary in thinking but ordinary in acting, that is, Willie and his Weltanschaung – the view of the world.

     

     

  • The Enterprising Spirits

    After years of working as seamstress and nanny with a trust fund her paternal grandmother Mrs. Molly Miller bequeathed to her in a magically discovered will, Sally’s mother Mrs. Mary Lamb bought a three-story house building in Charlottestown. It is indeed a revelation of lucky stars winking at the Lamb who have believed that heaven help those who help themselves as asserted by Benjamin Franklin. Not that the meaning of life aims at a pursuit of happiness, such as manifested in the realization of having a property now the Lamb possess, but that it is rather a by-product of their making efforts to live meaningful life simply by fulfilling demands placed upon their daily dealings with the world because to the Lamb materialistic bliss is not the ends of their life thanks to the influence of Logotheraphy, established by a great Austrian psychoanalyst Viktor E. Frankl whose book entitled, Man’s Search for Meaning Sally Wrote about in Serendipity, a kind of Reader’s Digest-like literary magazine of Charlottestown.

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    Mary Lamb, Sally’s mom

    It is a big leap from the cozy and pastoral Avonlea where the mother and the daughter were comfortably accustomed to the modes of life for long. But that was exactly why Mary had decided to move to Charlottestown, a coastal city 5 miles off the Pacific Ocean where seas are bluer and deeper and wider, and the skies higher and clearer, with people bustling with many different lives and daily episodes. She wanted to become a pioneer woman and wanted her only daughter Sally to mark herself in such world, triumphing over her obscurity and self-doubt as awriter of her own.

     

     

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    Sally Lamb, before getting off for the intervie

    Sally seems to like her new surroundings, adjusting herself thereto with her face radiated with a new sense of purpose and cheerful moods that were seldom surfaced to bloom back in Avonlea. But is she really content with their newly acquired state of material affluence with a house and a bakery, and even a car? Why not? It would be hypocrisy to deny what it is given, whether or not it’s favorable, especially if it is conducive to the invigoration of new energy that stimulates your mind growth to discover a wide panoramic view of life, a vista for what life asks you to do.

     

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    Bonnie Baker, Bakery’s new attendant/cashier

    With a hereditary sense of business acumen aided by philanthropist streaks in her family line, Mary made the first floor a bakery where delicious cakes and freshly brewing coffee are made on premise (that is, in her kitchen on the second floor), all of which are served with genial courtesy and amiable smile of Bonnie Baker, a new attendant at the shop whom Mary hired last week. Bonnie is a sister of her two baby siblings, Nena and Neno, all left orphaned by the death of their parents from a tragic car accident in Kingsbridge two years ago. The Baker used to live with their maternal aunt Brenda, but Bonnie did not get along with her because of her curmudgeonly temperament and depressive emotional tendency. Hence, when she saw an advertisement on The Traveler’s Times, seeking for a reliable, affable bakery shop attendant/cashier, without hesitation and with guts of confidence and adventuresomeness, Bonnie applied for the position, met with Mary, who liked her instantly, and got the job.

    To her amazement, Mary even volunteered to take care of the babies when Bonnie is at work. However, when Mary is also working on her mobile Candy Shop, her niece Sophie babysits them.

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    Sally’s ready to drive her very first car to her job interview.

    Sally is on her way to her job interview at Buena Vista, a literary magazine that covers a wide scope of literature from book and film reviews to poetry, to essays, and to letters from readers, all except matters concerning Politics. Surely, this is an outright betrayal of Aristotle’s dictum that anyone who’s not interested in politics must be either a beast or a divine being. But talking and writing about politics in public only disintegrates a stability of societal codes of conduct and builds up walls between one another and makes a clan of itself… So for this reason, Sally is elated to be selected for an interview by her favorite magazine. She feels her time has finally arrived, the time when her ability as a writer gets a recognition at last…. She feels that the auspicious interview notice is a foregone result – that is, she has a precognition that this position is to be had only for the asking. So off our Sally goes to the magazine company, which is located at 101 Fifth Avenue, 10th floor in Manhasset, 20 miles off Charlottestwon linked by the Thomas Jefferson Bridge.

    Sally, being easily moved into tears at the sight of people in need, also gives a ride home to Laura Collie, who with a heavy basket full of groceries is grateful for her act of kindness. Best Wishes for Sally’s job interview, or maybe we should congratulate her on the new job? Why not? What You Think and Believe Becomes Reality.

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