I was recently a part of an author’s panel discussion that took place in Asheville, North Carolina, at a lovely independent bookstore called Malaprop’s Bookstore & Cafe.
For too many years you have been cold to me, colder than any other (okay, there was Churchill, but that was short-lived), and I just can’t handle it anymore. And even when you were warm, your warmth was fickle, changeable, not to be trusted. I often found myself holding my breath, hoping, This time, let it be this time, when I would be convinced things would change. But, no.