I took that as a good sign.“So, did you like anything I wrote?” I asked cautiously.“Um, yes…I think some of them are funny,” She started, ...��I just read the one where you say Grace. Did you really do that?”“Hey I’m a Catholic boy, I was taught to say Grace before I eat.” I answered honestly.“A good Catholic boy, huh?” She giggled.“Yes, but of course. Why else would I write so many sex stories?” I added.“So, are you working on a story now?” She inquired.“Ah, yes.” I answered.I explained. To be honest, he taught a short fiction writing seminar that was my first choice to satisfy the requirement but registering for it required his permission. There was no problem getting into other writing seminars, but I was not keen on wasting a semester listening to people kiss each other’s asses because their last breakup inspired such ‘great’ work, no one dared hand-in that type of crap in Professor Ryan’s classes. I thought as my advisor he would feel obligated to assign me a coveted. ”“Does your story have a moral?” she asked.“The only zero-sum situations are those carefully designed to be zero-sum. There is a reason they call it game theory.”“Gee thanks.”Diane hadn’t found his explanation one bit helpful. She had heard the words ‘game theory’ before, however. She left her coat in her room in the hospital and easily got to the floor before six. She learned some things and eased some pain in the next twelve hours. When she was off duty, she called up her brother,. Four weeks after my father's first phone call, I was awakened by another call. I answered the phone without looking at the caller ID."Morning," I said sleepily."Mark," my father's voice sang out poisonously. "I'm sure you remember what day today is." The band you are with is in town," I said. "They have a concert at the Civic Center at seven. I have school, but I can miss my final period, so I'll be leaving school around two and should be at the center at three." I'll be waiting," my father.