May 10, 2016

The breeze lifts off the coast to mix with the morning heat from a climbing roof line of terracotta. Lemon orchard scent infuses the air and lingers with the fresh baked bread. Breakfast beckons. I can’t wait to see who sits down.

Commercial break, that is not the manuscript I’m writing now, but when it comes to mind I better write it down. Ideas seem to seed new ideas and I can get lost for hours like an ant stargazing through the stems of an Asiatic forest.

This is more like my manuscript right now—my rewrite of the final chapter. The sky is falling down, but darkness knows its power ebbs with each moment hope lifts the clouds.

Can you guess what this picture is?