Creativity-En-Masse

The lights of the city dance all around me. In a blur behind me, they become quick visions, splattered into the rest of the night along with the faces of strangers and neon signs. In the crisp night air, every breath becomes a cloud. It's unexpectedly cold for March, but this is the city. I pull my bicycle to a stop along the curve and lean it against a lamp post. The bulb is flickering above me, illuminating me in some sort of an eery light. I sit down on the corner of the street and cross my legs, my elbows planted on my knees and my face in my hands. A few people pass and look at me oddly. What would somebody be doing sitting in the cold

3 Different Seconds by L. Vera Subject 1: An excerpt from a tape recording of Martin Stevens' interview with Dr. Henry Wurzbach. 1/20/89 9:00 A.M. "How are you doing today, Martin?" Doctor Wurzbach's voice entered through the static. "Good," Martin replied. "If you do not mind Martin, I would like to go ahead and ask about the first time you discovered your ability," Doctor Wurzbach said with his deep calm voice. "Sure. Like I said before, it all just kind of happened. Well, I was out with my friends. We were walking home from practice and we got to the bridge across from the park. Michael jumped on the stone wall on one side of the