You know, you spend your whole life just, building things, I guess. Like, brick by brick, or in my case, steel and glass. You stand there on a lunch break, maybe the 32nd floor, listening to Susan from accounting talk about some guy, or Mark from design going on about his weekend, and they always… they always talk about *that*. The pull, the butterflies, that sort of magnetic thing people feel for, well, for other people. I’ve been an architect for, what, thirty-eight years now, since I got that first drafting job right out of high school, and it just… it never happened for me. Not once. You just sort of nod along, smile, pretend you get it, but inside, it’s like watching everyone else taste something sweet and you just… you can’t. And now it’s almost time to hang up the hard hat, and you realize you never even got a bite. It’s a strange thing to look back and see all those empty spaces, isn't it? Like a blueprint with a whole wing just… missing.