Eternal optimist and chocoholic. As the world becomes an ever-scarier place, I've found writing to be a more economical coping option than chocolate.
I'm just beginning my writing adventure.
The alert of someone approaching my doorstep was a welcome distraction from the daily grind. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I wondered who it could be. Maybe the Girl Scouts were selling cookies. As I picked up my phone to look out the door, the taste and smell of Thin Mints threatened to overwhelm me. An image of a drone flying away from the front door pulled me out of my chocoholic reverie.
Far Side of the Moon
Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. But the Bose audio system in my helmet transmitted my panic attack perfectly for everyone at Base Camp and Mission Control to hear. (Not to mention anyone back on Earth who might be live streaming.) Fortunately, only Mission Control would be notified that I had also just wet myself.
Guardian of the Innocent
The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. Mr. York was not surprised to see the light. For the last several minutes he had felt drawn to the area and figured it had something to do with the cabin. Still a few hundred feet in the distance, he wondered what he’d find inside.
Snow Cone Summer
I had a love/hate relationship with summer as a kid. My mom, however, had no qualms about her feelings. She hated summer vacation. The first couple of days were full of laughter and playing, but by the third day, she would start to hear murmurs of “I’m bored,” and wonder if she could survive another summer vacation. Mom loved us, but she did not like hearing us complain about boredom all summer.