| Faced with thirty writers to satisfy, she began to panic. Each wanted his/her moment of glory reading excerpts from their work to their peers. But their English was better than their maths: if each overran even slightly, many would be disappointed. They had; and the room was only booked for thirty more minutes. Desperate, she said a silent prayer. “Light a candle for me, please.” She was answered immediately. Lighting the candle she always kept in her bag, she held it before the writers. “Follow...the...light...,” she intoned. “You...are...falling...asleep...When...you...wake...up...you...will...each...have...read...your...stories...and...everyone...will...have...applauded...loudly.” Ten minutes later thirty very happy writers filed out of the conference. |  Image by freetopwallpaper.com |
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