Chapter 10

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 Starting chapter 10 exhausted. Need to take a break. The closer to the end I get, the steeper the climb, as it were. Just gets harder near the end. I’m having eye surgery consultation later this week. I’m thinking the eye strain is too much for this little pea brain. Everything jumbles together. But so excited this is happening!

"Proof" by Ethel Romig Fuller

"If radio's slim fingers can pluck a melody
From night--and toss it over a continent or sea;
If the petaled white notes of a violin
Are blown across the mountains or the city's din;
If songs, like crimson roses, are culled from thin blue air--
Why should morals wonder if God hears prayer?"

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