A note from there…
They keep me away from water, but I still pray. My mother taught me how to pray for water. She thought, she told me, that she wouldn’t miss the water. Ten years after leaving the water, she sat in the middle of the night running her fingers through the stream from the faucet.
I promised her I’d go back to the water, and I will. I’ll shed these legs and gain fins. I’ll be sleek and I’ll glide in the darkest depths, finding pearls, knowing whales and dolphins. I’ll find my mother’s people and tell them she never forgot.
I’ve moved in to my house–and so much is in boxes and walls need to be painted and I still have to prep for my summer term which starts Monday… And I’ve art to work on and a new synopsis to write…
But I’ll stick with this crazy project anyway. I love writing these stories whether anyone reads them or not.
A huge thanks to those sticking with me.