Craning one’s mien goes on in e.r.’s, time passes — comments from nonreaders, movies, lies — freedoms in this vein takes off at many a midpoint. It’s personal, e.r. managers tell me. It’s almost impossible to write enflamed birdsong and comb back your hair at the same time.. Can you do that? 

Light with a spooky edge 

To sound off like your own critic.