From somewhere, Henry produced a pen and a sheet of paper. "Write," hesaid. "Pick something completely impossible. Something you couldn'thave unles... Santa Claus brings it. Otherwise, we're going to call you'Scrooge' from now on."There didn't seem to be any way to escape from these fanatics withoutwriting something. So I picked up the pen and began, "Dear Santa..."They were looking over my shoulder. "Do you mind?" I said firmly, andthey backed off.I wrote: "Dear Santa. I've been living. Why, after realizing he might be late, had he relished the idea of watching the woman argue? Why had he felt a strange sense of disappointment when the argument ended? Given the time, he should’ve been thrilled the two had reached a resolution. ‘What the heck was that about?’ Michael forced a laugh as he addressed the clerk behind the desk. ‘We’re having a conference here this week. Let’s see… here it is.’ The clerk pulled out a large piece of card paper. ”The Future of Alternative Energy, with. More

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