“Yes.”
“Ever work on any paper?”
“No.”
“How do you know you can write?”
“I don’t. I just feel that I can. I want to see if I can’t get a chance to try.”
He looked at me, curiously, amusedly, cynically.
“Don’t you ever go around to the other papers?”
“Yes, after I find out there’s nothing here.”
He smiled. “How long have you been coming here like this?”
“Two weeks.”