bic// When the song was over, I picked up my notebook full of the songs that I had composed. I flipped through each page, humming the tune of each composotion, and I walked off the stage to the kitchen doing just that. I set the notebook down, opened the refridgerator, but nothing appealed to me. So I picked up the notebook again, and walked to my cabin. I got onto my roof, and stared at the moon again, tears shining on my eyes. I started writing again.