Between my writing spells, when I am out of this world, I just sit and hum to myself. My gaze fixed, I keep humming. If I am in one of my favorite cafés, I can see the people walking past me, and I can hear the chatter of the people sitting around me, but it is like a movie to me. Distant, two-dimensional, and ultimately irrelevant. “Mmmmm,” I reassure myself over and over again. While I am at it, there is not a thought in my mind. In spite of the hubbub I can see and hear, everything is still and silent. Time evaporates, too. Nothing matters any longer. From now till eternity, everything is just as it should be. And all I need is the soothing sound coming from my own throat. That is all. Humming into the future, as it were.