Serena in the Park

Run into Serena in the park. She says she was just thinking about me--feel like need to wheel around and leave park immediately in strange sort of embarassment--unfortunately legs do not work, nor does mouth. Serena doesn't seem to notice, goes on, says that she thought of me because she saw her friend the editor and wondered if I'd ever sent the editor anything of my book. Mouth works, but tongue extremely dry and palms damp--say, merely, No, which takes a lot of effort. Inwardly, am very upset with self about not finishing book, not Following Through, for time in young twenties when turned down paid internship at prestigous magazine because wanted to travel, for general laziness in regards to sitting self down in front of computer, when hear Serena saying, Great, it's set. I'm having Beth (can only assume that this is the editor) over for wine and snacks next week. Wednesday? (With horror, feel self nodding.) Wednesday. You two will love each other. Feel that this is very unlikely, but don't say so as am afraid will sound as strange as feel.