Grateful

That I am what I am.

That I can go back to sleep off this cold that has deposited rattly grey crud on the tops of my lungs.

For the wonderful dreams I had last night and this morning, dreams I spent an hour just now transcribing from scribbled bedside notes.

That I know what I know, believe what I believe, do what I do.

mission statement

a crudely drawn pen cuts itself out of the heavy paper, raises itself up, dips into a crudely drawn bottle of ink and, without a hand to guide it, magically inscribes, in the best calligraphy it can muster:

Mission Statement

to find

inspire

and support

young students

at risk of giving up

on reading

learning

and becoming part of the solution

humidity

He stepped up to address the packed, sweaty auditorium, face glistening in the merciless humidity.

“My steamed colleagues,” he said into the mic.

“Kill him!” rumbled a voice from the back, and two hundred men in neck ties, their heads ready to pop in the heat, began to nod and mumble as the speaker showed his teeth and began shifting from foot to foot.

You’ve got to be very careful what you say when the heat and humidity are unbearable.