I am rethinking my long planned break from the blog, having not even missed a day yet!

I felt tired of transparency and wanted only to hide awhile, suddenly self-conscious. And it’s true I’d abandoned my fiction of late.

Then, in the middle of the night, I awoke to write stories of men on buses, the driving 3/4 time of REM Day Sleeper drumming in my head for the third day in a row, and I am reading Parrerra’s Descent of the Goddess.

It rained hard in the night and is perfectly clear in the day--a beautiful day, the sky an eggshell blue, and the air a kick to the chest, and I heard the drone of a small prop plane.

I feel again comfortable in the moment
and glad for the slow elegance of the universe
with its thrilling ups and downs contained within.

Happy for the rain and for the sun.

I’ll post when I feel like it for awhile and ignore my own rules. I'm afraid I love to write.