Africa. Brilliant.Between marveling at the wails of his tenor and the other players, including the wailing drums of Rasheed Ali, they talked. Comforta...ly. About anything and everything. Music. Politics. Theater, including her father’s work at Penumbra, and his encounter of bias at Red Eye.“Fuck them,” she said. “You going to submit a play?”“I have to write it first.”“Then write it.”“I will. I’ve already done the long part.”“What’s that?”“Mulling it over.”“Cool. When are you going to have. Didn't even know the door was open. Sorry."She seemed a little breathless, flustered even, "You sure you're alright?" I'm sure."Sara Jean shrugged, "Okay. I'm heading back to my place. Door open or closed?" Closed, if you don't mind."Sara Jean closed the door behind her.It began 2 nights later.Sara Jean wasn't sure what woke her, only that all of a sudden she was awake. Her clock said 3:07a. She rolled over and prepared to drift back off when she heard it, so soft that she wasn't at all sure. More

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