In small, explosive bites I have been handed the gauntlet. I picked it up and ran with it before I was cognizant of the fact I had accomplished the goal—not once, not twice, but 14 times. Fourteen prompts had me jumping, running, smelling, tasting and feeling. I've never tried to write about being witness to a murder victim before. This ride has been exhilarating—to where, even at the end (which I just completed) I wanted to keep prompting. So here I am. Writing for the rest of my life. Thanks for playing your part in fanning the flames of my quill, Joe Bunting.