Charlie thumbs through the rather vast collection of poems the Bar provided today. Some of the stuff he knows, much he doesn't. Some is good, some is crap.

And he's dogearred several pages of note.

It used to be called the flying dream. The dream everyone has. The one where you are flying. About ten years ago, it was renamed. It's now the Superman dream ( Read more... )

Sallie isn't nervous. There's no reason to be nervous - she has hosted plenty of dinners for plenty of people before. Maybe it's because this is the first one that she has run in a new kitchen in her new apartment in her new position as Barman. She compensates by cooking. A lot. If Charlie comments on it, she'll say that she's making it to put out ( Read more... )

As the cool of the morning fades, Charlie prepares the exercise mats and other equipment near the lake. He's looking forward to seeing Natalie, but he's also just a bit preoccupied. Which means that he best sit on one of those mats and meditate till she arrives.

Once again, Charlie is set up to train Natalie. He's got the mats and the bottled water. He also has a jump rope. And today he's dressed in a basic karate outfit, with a white belt.

While he waits for Natalie to arrive, he sits on the grass and meditates.

Charlie has staked out a spot on the far side of the lake, away from any and all signs of runaway bread dough. He's laid out a large exercise mat borrowed from the gym, and has brought some bottles of water and some towels. He's not quite sure what route to take to train Natalie, but this is at least a start.