Sandy turned back to Ben, questions at the tip of her tongue. Ben was white and shaking."Sandy, that was her!" he hissed. "The girl in the desert, the...one I let go, and Silverman gave me such shit for!" Ben? What are you saying, Ben?" Sandy's answering whisper was no less quiet for its urgency."I'm saying I saw her in the fucking desert with another man, and she told me some bullshit story about being forced to cross the desert." Ben was as angry as Sandy could ever imagine him, she felt the. Last night I worked with a man who has probably over the past couple of decades put in the 10,000 hours that anyone needs to truly master a craft. In my own private life, my boyfriend and I are making our own stumbling attempts to learn to do this. My strategy is to read everything I can on the internet; his is to watch it. We have made our mistakes; he stormed off when I asked him not to hit my coccyx, and I can switch off in cold fury at a missed stroke. There are fights over where a stroke. More

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