Dear Eric, You owe me. Pay up. According to my accounts, you have borrowed inner light far past your capacity to use it. So many blessings you promised me are nowhere. Soon, if I do not hear from you, whatever truth you see will lodge itself between brain and bone. The skin inside your skin will rip away. I will have something of you, if not what is mine, believe me. You owe me. Pay up. The Muse