Her name was Mrs. Mounts and she looked at you all cock-eyes because she was half-way to blind. I thought she was crazy as a loon. She dressed strange and called me by my mothers name. She had glasses with yellow lenses like bee honey that were about an inch thick and slid to the tip of her nose and hung there like cliff hangers. It really didn't take much to get me writing. The first assignment of the year. Describe your favorite dessert. I went all out on that. Full sprint. All of my best words. The pretty, lace-paper ones from my novels. It was about apple pie. My mother read it before I turned it in and smiled that 'You've done well' smile that made me feel like cinnamon sugar inside. It was the best she had seen out of her numb dumb second daughter. I was gone after that. There was nothing else I could be but a writer. I was lost to the world. I can't be anything else. I'm strung out and I've got to get my fix.