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Give me a moment.  I’m playing modern day millwright, busily shredding 15 years of accumulated paperwork into a fine paper grist.

In the morning I’ll bake a loaf of bread.  It’ll taste like $3,500 Packard Bell memories and will warm up extremely slow.  The first bite will remind me of the days of no frills, nothing fancy.  The second bite will remind me of eating organic food - good for you at the moment, but nice when it’s over.  The third bite I will spit out.

Just like I did the $3,500 Packard Bell, at a garage sale, three years after buying it, for something like $100.  I haggled over the price with very little enthusiasm and the blinking DOS cursor just sat there, watching the whole thing.

Or maybe it was cussing me out.  It was always hard to tell with DOS.  Not like today’s computers, who really know how to show you when they’re pissed off.

Anyway, back to the shredder.  I’ve almost worked my way into an exciting pile of late 80’s toaster oven receipts, or lifetime warranty muffler receipts for cars I don’t own, or some such nonsense.

Imaginary Keith is tied in a chair being force fed numbers.  One hand is loose, barely, so that he can sketch a concept for an arbor and gate.  Every five minutes I walk over and flick him on the back of the ear, then remind him that he’s had more then two months to get this done.  It’s his own fault.  His own doing.

I took out the gag once, but immediately put it back in when he began to compare me to a visit to the dentist.

Do you see the abuse I have to put up with?

Finish the damn sketch, I tell him.  I’m waiting, a customer is waiting, and even worse, Thor is waiting.

Thor!  Did you hear me?  Thor!  Finish your work before you really piss him off.

Imaginary Keith’s hand wiggled around when I said that, but I’m not sure if he was reaching for the pen or just twitching as I tightened the ropes.  His eyes look a little jumpy, but then he’s such a coffee freak.

Can I say whirlwind without also saying romance?  Of course I can, but does it make sense?  Can I have a whirlwind workweek?  Let’s try.

Crabass Tom has returned and is settling in nicely in his trailer behind the barn.  The cows are watching, but seem relatively unconcerned.  A whirlwind arrangement.

Fernando has returned to work.  Smiling, hard working, always on time, always dependable, 30 hours overtime and still happy, plays soccer with my son Fernando.  That Fernando.  Lifesaving Fernando.  Whirlwind Fernando.

More contracts signed.  A flurry of signatures and currency exchange.  Whirlwind business.

And finally, more past drawn into the present.  More real told of the imaginary.  More friends given directions to these words.  Whirlwind disclosure.

Yes, believe it or not, as your own lips silently mouth these words, you may be logged onto Word Shadows at the very same moment as the Norse Gods themselves - Thor, Balder the Beautiful, and even that famous trickster, Loki.  ( Firewalls up! )

How have I even gone this far without the reassuring shadows of my friends peeking over my shoulder?

No, not this morning.  No Thor yet.  Although it would be like just like Thor to come pounding in out of the early dawn fog, taking everyone by surprise even though we know he’s coming.  He’s just not the knock on doors, ask permission type.

Of course, back in college, Thor wasn’t quite so scary.  Being plucked out of the heavens and sent off to college in Arkansas took a lot of wind out of the guy.  But don’t get me wrong, Thor’s temper was always stoked and ready to burn at the drop of a hat.  College boy or Norse god, Thor was always ready for action.

But enough of that.  Today is a work day.  I half expect Imaginary Keith to give me one of those, “Awwww, do I have too” looks, but he knows better.  I’m a stern boy running a tight ship, and today I will not tolerate any of that blubbery lip stuff.