[THE PITCH: Blog 12] You are enjoying fine food and fine company at a spring picnic when suddenly you realize the wind has stopped blowing. It’s eerilyquiet … As if someone has turned off the soundtrack of whistling winds, chirping birds, and even rustling leaves. It’s calm … And in that moment of silence all that exists is acollective consciousness among cohorts … Not a cloud in the sky above … Hmmm … Instinctively you gather your belongings … A storm is coming.
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