I’m not paying attention anymore, distracted by thoughts of how much I miss that brief contact and trying not to analyze why. Here under the stars, alone with Clark Kent, the distractions of work and the city, my commitment to my career, the cable bill that I forgot to pay, fade away and I realize I’d rather be standing in a field, surrounded by bugs and other creatures I’d rather not think of, staring at the stars with him, than anywhere else.
Lois Lane reporter has stepped aside to let Lois Lane the woman come front and center. Perfect.
The lessons from the writing class comes through beautifully.
One question, since when do August evenings cool down?
