I pad into the kitchen and put the coffee on, he likes his strong and black.As I wait for the drip, drip, drip of the machine, my head begins to race....I feel so full of stories, they leech out of my skin and run onto the page themselves. I pick up the notes from the kitchen table and remind myself where we are, today we will write but not for an hour or so yet.He is still sleeping when I enter the shadows of the bedroom, his long frame thrown across the bed, his face creased into the pillow. I. I curse quietly to myself, replace the paper on the pile and get up to follow her.I never really go to the gym. It's a huge room filled with all sorts of sports equipment. I give her hand moving some gear around and then take a moment to sit and collect my breath."You look exhausted." Gee, I wonder how she noticed that."Yeah, I'm not in the shape I used to be." What's the matter Joe, you seem down." I don't know Carla, well maybe I do. They tell us when we're young that school days are the best. More

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