"It's alright,
She said rolling a number two pencil
In between
Her thumb and pointer finger,
"It's alright, it's alright, it's alright."

"Alright," I said.

"Don't take it the wrong way,
She continued,
"It's the second draft. They
Are the hardest
Because it's the draft after
The first..."

"Of course," I said.

"And if this draft is just..."

I cut her off, "Alright?"

She looked up at me.
"Yes," she smiled meekly,
"If this draft is just alright,
Then the third better be
****** good
Or the story itself
May
Be
The problem."

I nodded and looked out the window.
It was starting to rain and many birds
Sat on the branches underneath the leaves at
The bottom of the tree trying to escape the wet.
Very smart little things, I thought.

"But," she started again,
Now biting at the eraser of
The number two pencil,
"It is alright, alright, alright."

She handed the story back to me
Blew out the little pink chunks of eraser
She had been chewing on
On the fingers of her other hand.

"Come to me
With a
Third and let's see
What
We can do with it."

"Alright."