In at 11am.
Out at 6pm.
Sat only once.
I’ll let you figure out where.
Back home sweet home, drama over a beloved tv occurred.
Yesterday’s wonderfully sweet and heartwarming greeting became a memory.
Drained is about the best to describe how my heart, body and soul felt a few minutes ago while I kissed kiddo goodnight, hubby-to-be already back at work.
Then, I got comfy and opened the laptop. First thing I did was read the last paragraph I wrote before the sun rose.
Words. Words from my wanna-be novel on the page.
A tiny little bit of a story far away from the fun but still a bit mind-numbing day job I just started.
Novels, fellow writers.
Novels.
Close to nothing is better than writing or reading a novel.
It’s a lifesaver.
It’s
A way to dream, escape, discover and travel far away or understand better a reality close to yours, close to the human beings we mingle with every day without thinking twice about the vast majority of them.
It’s
A way to look at a different reality through a character or another author’s mind.
It’s
A way to connect to what it intrinsically means to be alive in this world filled with beauties and wonders and black-capped chickadees chirping around the tall blue spruce.
That’s why, for me, writing and reading is a lifesaver.
Thanks for writing your poems, your short stories, your blog posts, and your novels.
Many more thanks for sharing them.
I owe you laughter and wonder.