It Must Be Destiny

Readers, by now you know that I have some ambition to be a writer, though I have little idea of how to get there. Well, I began my new "career" on Tuesday in Starbucks with a notebook and a pen. I got an iced tea with a gift certificate that was a retirement present and sat down in an easy chair. I was no more than 6 lines and ten minutes in to a ditty about a Latino man on his porch in the summer heat with a bible listening to window air conditioners buzz all around him when the young woman in the easy chair next to me said, "excuse me."

"Yes?" I said.

"Are you a writer?"

I paused, trying to figure out how to answer appropriately. "Occasionally," I managed.