The flow. Yeah. Knowing you could step on the court and make it happen. You practiced, sure. But then, when you walked out there, you could just go. You could flow, that was it: you created and you didn't totally know how. You just knew you could, so...
With the fading of the final notes the saxophone player turns to me. Its baleful, otherworldly gaze bores into my soul. It lowers its instrument to the disc and extends a podgy, grey hand to point at me. It looms closer, its head expanding, arm elong...
I promise. For the other side of the card, I put the giraffe and penguin on it and wrote: To think and try not to over think. To breathe, but not hyperventilate. To try to envision the best, and not dwell on the worst. To call you when I'm in trouble...
