At 10:50 a.m. in Baldy Hall on the university campus a collision is about to take place. Signals are misconstrued. Flashing lights are ignored. It can’t be helped. It is the nature of magnetic fields.
“Hello,”he says.
“Hi,”she responds.
Author’s Note:
Aross a crowded room, a glance is exchanged. You’ve experienced it, sworn by it, rued the day of it. Chemistry. Most times, unfortunately, it’s a disaster and you’d be better off meeting someone your mother picked out. I had several titles for this story but finally settled on “Ode to Serling.” It came to me as I wrote “At 10:50 a.m. in Baldy Hall . . . ”and heard in my head his gravelly, deadpan voice. Rod Serling lives on.