The Indians closed in, forming a tighter ring around me. Beyond, I could see two braves stand near Mataoka and little Harvey, too.“Hello,” I tried...to greet them in Indian. They stared at me, then turned and talked to one-another in a language I did not understand.One of them reached for where the bloom I had been working lay on the dusty ground. He leaped back, burned, as, although it looked quite black, it was still much too warm to touch. Another got close and held his palm over it, feeling. Sometimes a hobby is a means to an end. A subconscious expression of deepest feelings. Sometimes a hobby sets you free. The rain seemed to grow heavier as the evening wore on, and as night gathered her skirts and prepared to saunter onto the sky stage, the bus finally came down the street. He straightened his shirt and got up from the bus bench, brushing dust, splinters and a rusty penny from his pants. Tonight was going to be a very special night, for a multitude of reasons. The concert was. More

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