Write about: an exchange.
Max passed his exam with flying colours this morning, I'm happy and relieved to report. What seemed like it might be a touch of cross-eyed is actually just a result of where his eyes are naturally positioned. The optometrist wants him to come back in a year to have another look to make absolutely certain, but he didn't seem too concerned.
In the garden the first of the peas are in the soil, while the apricot trees in the orchard are beginning to bloom. It's almost like spring is here or something.
He said it would be an exchange of ideas. Thoughts and suggestions speeding along an eight lane superhighway, the results of which couldn't possibly be anything other than groundbreaking. Fame, glory, fortune all seemed so inevitable.
Stupid me for believing him.
It was too good to be true. Of course it was. I was lured in by my own needs, by my own greed. I wanted it to be true, so I convinced myself that it was. I could place all the blame on him but I know better. I suspect you do too.
The truth, that I can see is so painfully obvious from here, is not terribly complicated. What he offered was not an expressway of innovation. It was a one way street.
And I was left stranded at the wrong end.