Nobody was around, because it was early morning. The dew was still on the grass and the air felt clean. I sat underneath the tree and pulled out my spiral notebook with some random pen out of my pocket. I put in my earbuds, selected "Play All" and let John, Paul, George, and Ringo take over. I opened the notebook and closed my eyes to think about that day... The grass was itchy because some one had just mowed it. I dropped my bag onto the cement right next to the grass, a little walkway on the side of the Big Theater that nobody ever went near. I liked to people watch or take a nap or just lay there and watch the sky instead. It had been one of those days where I didn't want to form thoughts into words and words into verbal communication, with anybody. I had just lied down and put on my headphones and closed my eyes, listening to the sound of Morrison crooning me to sleep. Oh, Jim. After about ten minutes of laying there, I got a strange feeling that someone was standing over me. I opened my eyes and saw this curly mass of brown hair with what seemed like light from heaven. An angel at 12:30 in the afternoon. He smiled and said, "Why is such a pretty girl so alone?" And that was what started it all.