BASLOW IS FANTASIZING ABOUT YOU, DEAR READER
Do you feel, even as you read this, Baslow's idle speculations about you emanating from your screen?
Baslow does not know who you are or why you are reading this. He wonders. He writes.
He imagines your posture at just this moment. He sees the illumination cast upon your face. He thinks he might know the color of your hair. He tries to gauge the impact of his words upon you.
Baslow's children and wife are long asleep but he cannot sleep, not yet. He must fix a firmer image of you, Dear Reader, in his mind. He must convince himself that he has consummated an act of verbal expression with you.
Are you there?
Baslow wants you to be there. He doesn't know why.
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