Do you want to edit my work?
Then I'll edit your editing.
Somewhere, somehow the story shall be told.
There was a burning in his chest, it came from the brandy.
He concurred, if anyone had payed attention
to the self addressed stamped envelope,
but when
reply failed
he worried they had not received the
requested thirty pages.
Finally he broke down and lifted the cordless.
Did you not receive the manuscript?
Why then no return of my S.A.S.E.?
Well Sir, I'm certain it's here somewhere.
There has been some changes around here
and, well...
it just got lost in a pile.
What would you like us to do with it
when it surfaces?
Read it, please read it.
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