It’s writing time again. His bald head has been hunched over the keyboard for hours, beads of sweat forming from frustration as he hits the delete button once again. Those of us who are left are waiting, somewhat anxiously, to be picked.

“A” and “E” went quickly, of course. They are vowels, and very proud of the fact that they are the most needed. Not a book, letter, or document can be written without them, and they know it. “I” and “O” try to fight this but deep down they know it’s a losing argument. They are the sub-vowels, along with “U” who can never be found. He’s too busy following “Q” around like a lost puppy.

Two hundred pages in and there are still a few of us left. I’m expecting to be last, I’m always last if picked at all. That’s why I bring up the rear. I’d like to believe that old saying about saving the best for last but that’s easier said than done.

Hey, what’s this? I’m being written! One of his characters is a zebra named Zebedee who lives in a zoo. Three times in one sentence! This is a moment to remember. I even beat “J” and that never happens. Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah to me!

It feels so good to be needed.