I answered the phone two nights ago and heard a familiar voice in full tirade. "I read your book and I said to Bruce that this was mighty fine exercise in FICTION!!!"
"Hi Myles," I was delighted. Myles is the only person in the books whose name we did not change.
"Sweet convent girl, my ass! You had men circling the block looking for you, circling the BLOCK!"
"Only one guy," I started, by My cut me off.
"And John. He was interested in your INTELLECT!!!! That's not what I saw."
He carried on. This was the most wonderful carrying on I've heard in ages. I just let him go.
He began to finish with "...and what are you going to say when the other's find out about this fiction ?"
"There are no others," I told him. "They've all gone to distant places. Besides, I changed my name."
We yelled a bit more and I laughed until I went weak.
I have no fear of Myles. He's the greatest of story tellers.
Besides. I know his stories very, very well. They put my pallid adventures into fine print. It's wonderful to have a old friend.
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