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The moon is waxing,
growing brighter each night, and tonight, with lacy patchworks of
white clouds not hiding the stars, Jessica asks, "Do you write
for yourself or other people?" Well, she's only just turned
twenty-four. The other night, during my forced vacation, I lay across
my bed opening Hershey Miniatures, popping one into my mouth after
another, the only rule being, You can't bite it! Then I turned
out the lights, and still tonguing the chocolates around (without
biting!), I wondered how many I could consume this way before
falling asleep. And tonight, telling Jessica about always writing
as if to your best friend, especially if that friend
is yourself, she says, (Not biting!) "I knew you wouldn't
answer that directly."
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