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That Questioning Look
That Questioning Look I pull in to the parking lot of the hotel, in town again for a conference. The place is familiar, well-known to me and comforting. My life has been so prosaic – I’ve been in a rut that feels as deep as a canyon. I feel as if I could die from ennui. I’m resigned to attending the conference, but can’t help feel a slight breeze of optimism, with this welcome break in routine and typical of my nature, like a sailboat, I tack into it. Almost against my will, my spirits lift as...