White hands strayed across the piano keys and whispered soft to me. Do you feel the thunder humming? Do you hear the sizzling of the wires as they pass messages up and down the years? Do you see the lights off the northern coast gleaming through the fog? Do you smell the woodsmoke of the bonfire that crackles on that Hawaii beach? I wish I could write a story that would encompass your trials and tribulations and yet still hold you safe within its arms. Yet my ability to do such is outmatched by my vivid vision and I fear that anything I write will shrivel in your presence and turn to stone under the stars. Yet perhaps even that stone will stand the test of time better than some other scribbles and perhaps the star-washed etchings will someday bring tears to a pilgrim’s eyes. So should I not attempt it and see what this feeble hand can bring forth? Should I not at least break out my notebook and try? I put my hands upon the keyboard now and cry to heaven. I get on my knees and pray for aid this night. Why do you call me to account now for what I haven’t written? Why do you look at me with such tender compassion when I know my failures are even now within your sight? Oh I must with diligence press on for that for which I’ve been called to do. Do I believe it possible that I can craft this gem of steel and starlight? Do you? Please don’t text me asking for an answer. I walk this path even now wondering what I shall say at the end of all things. Thankfully I don’t need to present a justification. The price has already been paid. Do you smell the scent of roast chicken cooking? Do you see the light of the candle on the coffee table that flickers this night? Do you hear the tapping of the keyboard as I write this prologue? Do you feel my arms around you holding you as you cry? The lightning struck outside and I turned the record over.