Tuesday bleeds to Wednesday to Thursday to Friday to who knows or cares. Meals morph from a creative endeavor to scouring for palatable sustenance. TV, or more accurately streaming, drifts from overwhelming choices to muddled distractions. Whether shack or castle, home feels too crowded. And the Internet just plain sucks.
No matter our “creature comforts,” or our being in control our soul knows that we do not know what we have always known. And our commitments and connections will wonder, while bearing the ache and scars, long into the future.
Fiction 101: The goal is to tell a story in 101 words or less.
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