I had been struggling all afternoon with a composition when the phone rang. Tension gripped my shoulders as I rose to answer the phone. I knew the rhythms were weak and I still hadn’t decided whether to fix the verse with rhyme. As the metal bell clanged again, I realized I should jump to the heart of the story and look for patterns there. Sometimes the beginning is no place to start.
Lord Malinov, Flowers of Malinov