Postcard #8


Steve was the first person I met at Viable Paradise XII–we were both in the airport, waiting to board the puddle-jumper to Martha’s Vineyard, and he correctly deduced from my laptop adornments that I was a fellow writer and struck up a conversation.

We subsequently had further bonding experiences during the workshop week, which may or may not have involved large quantities of alcohol. (It’s okay. He owns a bar.)


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