A number of people are reading a good book tonight. An even larger number of people have already read it, while the largest number of people of all will never even hear of the book. A smaller number of people are writing books, yet not as large a group as those dreaming tonight about writing one of their own. A number of people are looking out windows tapping on their desk holding a number two pencil contemplating all that lies on the other side of that glass besides clouds, green grass and roads that seemingly go no where daydreaming.. A large number of people have flipped up Mac computers sitting in their laps tugging out words and thoughts, giving’s and misgivings as they ride in cars, planes, trains, and buses chases wrestling with the birth of an idea fighting to get down onto paper. A likewise large number of people are heading in the opposite direction with Macs fallen silent because they have no more to say. A large number of people are calling each other on their latest cellular devise tweeting and twittering, messaging and texting about how they miss the good old days as their portable technology hurls them into a future whether they want to go or not. A number of people are reaching out to someone while a corresponding large number of people are pulling back. A large number of writers eschewed in a back and forth waving motion of here and there are ending up crashed on a beach of crushed stone and memoirs atop waste paper baskets of ideas. A large number of people are never alone all the time, but there are for sure an even larger number of people who sometimes are alone all the time be they alone or not.