"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."