In my youth, I was far too anxious to jump into a conversation without really knowing what it was all about. It was an often useful exercise to shut up and find about what other people are saying before diving in. For the first two meetings of the SciFi Club, as I called it, I just listened. I wanted to get the drift of both the moderator's aims and the input from the other students. It was a good decision.Far from the ramblings of geeks and weirdos that I had originally expected, the discussions were thoughtful and very complex. Most of the members were very well read, citing Asimov of course, along with Bradbury and Heinlein. I knew their names, but had little knowledge of their work. If I could find the time, I would search out a couple of their books on the topic of time travel and see what they had to say. At the end of the session, I approached the moderator, one David Meehan."Mr. Meehan, I was wondering if you could recommend a couple of books that focus on time travel;. She was trying to explain your attitude." I don't have an attitude." Ok. Your apparent dislike of me then." Well you're just the same as the others. Getting around, having a good time, screwing all sorts of tarts, not giving a thought to your wives." Your perceptions are false. I can't prove to you that you are wrong and what is more can see no reason why I should even try. You had one bad egg. It doesn't follow that all the other eggs in the box are bad as well. Your mind is made up so carry on with your blinkered ideas. It makes no difference to me."She stared challengingly at me for a moment, then her face crumpled again and tears ran slowly down her cheeks. I was torn. My logic told me to walk away, my emotions wouldn't let me. Compassion won! I took out my handkerchief and offered it to her. At first she ignored the offer then reluctantly took the cloth and wiped her eyes."If you let it get to you like this, then he's won again." I offered as a crumb of comfort. "Angela tells me.
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