By Leslie Lindsay I may have finished the manuscript, but now I am going back in and adding–well–color, depth, bringing the darn thing alive.  Here’s a flashback which stands as a prologue (for now), and gives some glimpse into Annie’s inner mind.  Annie 18 years ago Senior Year “With the school day now behind me, I pace in front of the post office, another job I couldn’t possibly do.  Too many numbers and letters.  They would all be screaming at me in color.  My planner is filled with assignments—busy-work, mostly—they try to keep us seniors engaged in the spring time.  Spring Fever, they call it.  I’m on to their game.  A gentle breeze floats past, all tangerine swirls and warm vanilla.  I inhale deeply, expecting the smell of an orange sickle.  Nothing.  This time, I see only the breeze.  Next to the post office is Dr. Frick’s office.  A hard, splintery name.  Frick.  As in “what the frick is this about?”  Her voice is gritty and rumbling, her face worn.  She looks like a frick.  …