Two paragraphs

that cement the fact that I heart Neil Gaiman…

“A five in the morning wake-up call and off to the airport to fly home. Finished the Yearbook article in the Northwest Lounge. Sent it off. I slept a bit on the plane. I’d heard that “crippling” snow was expected in Minneapolis, but it was actually rain and didn’t turn into snow until I had got home safely. And it was vital that I made it back in time because I had to get back home for…

The Sleepover. At which I was going to be The Adult. Starring Maddy and five of her thirteen/fourteen year old friends, at which I get to serve as chauffeur (to cinema and back) adviser (“you could probably put more cheese on those nachos”), placer-of-things-into-oven, and most importantly, because they had all just seen Prom Night and were a bit skittish, offerer of helpful advice (“You’ll all want to stick together this evening. It’s a big old house after all, and given the people who’ve died here over the years… well, I’ve said too much already…”). It’s going on as I type this.”
[Religiously interrupting your being since 2001]

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