When school started, Cindy would know I was a nerd. Hopefully Janet would have some other chores that needed doing.When I got home, Mom stepped outsid... as I was putting away the lawnmower. "Mrs. Cooke has something she needs your help with," she said."I just got this thing put away!" I muttered."I think it's something in the basement," Mom said. "You should go right over." Okay, then," I said. I'd be happy to give her some help in the basement. I quickly showered to get the sweat, dirt, and cut. As a result I hadwithdrawn into myself and learned to express all my hopes and fearsthrough my writing.By the way, I suppose I ought to introduce myself. My name isChristopher, but everyone calls me Chris.About a year ago, somewhat to my surprise, I managed to complete one ofmy stories. Like most novels it was, to some extent, autobiographicaland many of my school and university colleagues featured in thinlydisguised roles. It was about teenagers growing to young adulthood andthe traumas they. More

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