The light dims into the late winter afternoon. 4:38 pm. The bell for Vespers will ring in 12 minutes. So is this paragraph intense enough? He keeps writing and hoping that some kind of energy will be generated as more cursives and serifs get on the page as well as on his mind. Not even a quick flash of a thought—how much time do I have now — can he afford. Yet, the cloud of that question hangs over his head ready to burst rain and pour on him from a gutter dipping down from a roof aimed at his computer.