I look up, and there's a young girl standing over me. She's wearing a bellyshirt, tight shorts, and a pair of battered flip flops that have seen bette... days. I think about ignoring her for a moment, but then reconsider. I've never seen her before, so perhaps she's just lost."Yes?" I ask, picking a point just over her left shoulder to frown at."Dr. Tobin?"My eyes betray me, and shift to hers for a second. Brown eyes ... She's been crying.I sigh, put down my trowel, and stand."I'm Dr. Tobin," I. The sky outside was dark even though it was close to eleven am. What was I doing in bed still at that time? Well, being a writer, I write when inspiration hits. Which means if I dream something up at one am, I'm up until it's out of me.But last night had not been about inspiration. No, it was frustration that had me up to all hours, writing and deleting, rewriting and deleting more. Finally, after staring at my computer and picturing what it would look like outside the front window, shattered. More

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