Once again, thousands of bellies fill with dread.
Once again, one human wreaks havoc with a greedy agenda.
Once again, a small group sits in fear as they hold the real power, albeit by wielding it as a tiny keychain flashlight in an abandoned 30,000-foot warehouse trying to find a clue.
Once again, I feel like a quiet lighthouse on a distant shore beaming a signal of help.
Once again, the people respond sending a distress signal to the ones who hold the key.
Once again, the deafening silence sends the belly into turmoil of knots and nausea.
Once again, we need to all reach into our inner Jack Reacher.