Tomorrow I have to go reserve tickets for six of Kevyn's family members to come see my play. Thinking about them seeing this is, I think, what has me the most nervous. I'd rather they'd seen me in The Hobbit. One thousand times rather.

I am sitting in the library. There is a man sitting at the same table as I am, diagonally across from me. He is reading a book and lounging back in his chair. He has one arm extended into the air with which he is continually making the motion of shooting a basket. But it is so languid that it's more like a cat pawing a ball of string. This fascinated me and I watched out the corner of my eye for a while, when all of sudden he turned in my direction, and I could see that he was crying. He wiped away the tear, took a moment, and then returned to lounging and pawing. I find myself unable to stop staring at him. I really want to know what book he is reading.