<div class="floatleft">(https://www.mediafire.com/convkey/76b7/x5nx8e3wrte3v7y6g.jpg)<br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: Georgia;"></span><div align="center"><strong> <span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;">Circe</span></strong></div></div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 11pt;">Not so bad—Chloe just needs some arms wrapped around her (I guess).  Maybe my spontaneous <em>no big deal</em> helped too.  Who knows?<br/><br/>“(Giggle).  I wouldn’t mind test driving the book if it really had spells.  Or if it’s just a performance thing, a book for that, that’s okay.”  I pause, “but real magic?  What are those part human, part horse things called?”   I look at Mike, “Nope, maybe not.  Don’t really see that. . . . for you.”    <br/><br/>“If you want to chill, we can decorate cookies.”  Short attention span when panic sets in for a minute or so I guess.  “Remember the pornographic gingerbread?”  Or maybe not.  “Or we could magic-it-up and give Mike some chest handles.”  (Giggle).  “Shakespeare made up thousands of words.  Magic-it-up could be one, right?  Chest-handles?  Not so good a word, tits Mikey.  Abracadabra, what size should we get you set on?”       <br/><br/>I hope the banter chills Chloe.  Mike?  He’s being sort of nice with the comfort thing.  Not his usual.  Mike usually thinks big.  Will he interrupt all this to make his editorial point that tits are not worth talking about unless they are ____________?  Hmm.<br/></span>