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She took one last look into the washed out night sky, turned her back, and walked into the woods. 

As the light from the city faded, the stars took on a life of their own and the forest came alive. 

But you can only walk so far into the woods before you’re walking out again, and every day her refuge shrank.

Still she clung to the warm, earthen smells in her nose; and cool, soft moss between her toes.

Until one day the city lights triumphed over the stars, and she was chased from her ancient groves. 

And on that day, there was nowhere left to hide,

and no one left who cared. 

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Every day you see them. Lost pets, strays, wild animals… all dead along the road. You don’t know what drove them there, what pain they experienced before their death. You can only feel sad that they had to meet what had to be such a terrifying end.

When I was younger, I remember driving up to the outlet mall one day. It was just as any normal day in Florida, sun shining, bad traffic. When I notice the traffic backed up a bit on the other side of the multi lane highway. People were out of their car, pacing in front of it. I looked over just as a small dog, maybe Benji size, pulls himself free from under the front wheel. His back was broken and he’s half paralyzed, but he was so petrified, his front legs spun him in a hopeless circle as he cried and screamed. I could hear him with my windows down and music on.

I was in tears within seconds. I couldn’t imagine what the poor thing was going through – if he would make it. The people who hit him looked devastated and I knew they would take him somewhere to get help, but there was nothing I could do.

Every now and then, the image of his helpless body being drug across the pavement haunts me. It turns my stomach and my heart aches as I wonder what happened to him. I’d like to imagine that while he maybe never regained the use of his hind legs, that he became one of those stories with the sweet lovable dog in the doggy wheelchair. That he was a stray and the family that hit him adopted him and they’ve became best friends. That he finally passed peacefully in his sleep from old age.

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I don’t like to wait. I would prefer to try and make something myself rather than order things online. Sometimes they don’t turn out just right, sometimes they do exactly what I want.

Here is my ukulele strap that I just finished.

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Yes those are also homemade labels on the fret board so I can learn the notes. No I don’t care if you laugh at me, because so far I can slowly play “I see fire” from the hobbit, “Down on the corner”, “Pompeii” and “Take me to church”. Not too bad considering I’ve only had it since Christmas and never held one before.

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“I know he looks rough around the edges, you’ve just caught him at a horrible time. He’s normally softer spoken than even Nathan,” I told someone. She was injured and laid up in the bed of an old house. It was dank and musty, cobwebs clung to the corners of the room. Beyond the old wooden door, people milled about the hallway.

The girl’s face was drawn, sad; her eyes were puffy from crying.

A light rap on the door drew our attention. Nathan stood in the doorway. His blonde hair had been left to grow and hung in loose waves around his broad shoulders. The golden beard he wore was manicured closely around his jaw.

“I was just making sure everything was alright,” he asked, sunkissed skin crinkling at his eyes as he smiled.

“Fine, I think Nicholai’s outburst upset her more was all.” He nodded sagely, hands in his back pockets.

“I’ll talk to him if you like.” I only nodded. I changed out the cool clothe that I had against the girl’s forehead. It wasn’t minutes before Nicholai stood in the doorway. He had filled out over the years, weight and health filled his clean shaven cheeks. He rested one large hand casually on the top of the door frame.

“We can’t stay long.”

“You’ll stay as long as you need. She needs rest.”

“And what happens if they come here,” he almost snapped. I raised a challenging eyebrow and rose from the bed. I was anything but intimidating, though he still backed down; brown and gold eyes cast to the dark wooden floor at his feet.

And that’s about when I woke up. I never dreamed of my characters before. Imagine my surprise when i opened my eyes and realized I’d just seen them clearly for the first time. They were individuals, not some actor that I’d chosen to look like them. They were living and breathing. There was nothing cartoony or fake.

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Hello random afternoon thunderstorm. Okay, this is FL, I shouldn’t be that surprised, but still, I am. Today has been one hell of a week. Kicked it off with a sick kid, doctor appointment for my mom meant she had to go to the hospital. Moving along to sick boyfriend and low and behold, sick ass me. Blegh. 

So I sit here, recuperating from a long day. I stuck it out today, I probably shouldn’t have because I feel like crap, but oh well. I’ve used so much sick time lately between my mom, son and self. 

It occurred to me that I have a world created where I can throw around as much lalafrufru magic that I want. We’re talking books here people, keep up. I have centuries of writing to be filled in for what happened on the other side of the veil after the fae from Avalon separated the worlds. Every fairy tale creature just waiting to have a new back story explained. Not so much new, as combining all of the myths. It’ll all come later, and definitely something to do on the side… but I won’t have to hold back. Different series, different set of magic rules. 

Of course it would be smart to finish editing one book before I start writing the next. I wouldn’t say I’ve started writing the next… so much as getting ideas out. I’m still floundering from lack of inspiration and I just don’t know why. Fatigue, stress, depression – who knows. I just wish I could pull myself out of this slump.

I’d say let’s keep going, but I think I’m going to go lay down while I listen to the storm. Maybe a bit more sleep. Once I’m no longer sick and coughing, I’ll try working again.