Meeting the Editor

I confessed.
I told him I write a blog.
He just smiled and didn't say anything, which as you know I like.

"I want to give you the link," I said.
He turned to look for a pen.
"You don't need a pen, you'll remember it. Stigma. You know, stigma. Stigma, stigmamma, stigmum."
"Stigmum," he said.
"Yes."

He smiled at the username; well it is a good one if I may say so myself. We talked about it for a little while; where the word originated and stuff.
"She is my source," I said. "I have to protect my source. Throw me to the wolves if you want, but will you protect my source?"

I told him the journo at the free paper had it, that he's not the first. Other papers have it too. Well how was I supposed to know all this would happen? I didn't, honestly reader.

As I left, slightly more at ease as when I went in but still frightened nonetheless I told him his paper had my story.
"You have the exclusive!"
We both laughed.
Many a true word is spoken in jest... (Shakespeare? Dunno, a very common idiom)

He said to get in touch next week. I may do so after my doctor's appointment.

I thank him for that.