We met here, Jim and I, in high school. We came last weekend to celebrate his mother's 83rd birthday. We meandered King Street, ate collards at Jestine's Kitchen, took in Spoleto (liked Piccolo Spoleto even better), and wandered the harbor between celebrations.

There is a magic to Charleston. It's more than the architecture, the charm, the low country and the harbor. I have discovered another magic...
The other magic? I wrote, focused and intense, on the way down, in the car, while Jim drove. I wrote every early morning while we were there. Sometimes a change of scenery is just what's required. I'm beginning to see the end of this revision. I hope it takes wings this week and flies back to my editor.