Yesterday in the middle of my #busy – office stuff, bank stuff, triathlon stuff, chasing sports funding stuff, fixing my Uni course enrolment stuff, being irritated by people who would make the world a better place IF THEY JUST DID THEIR DAMN JOBS (or disappeared) eh! In the middle of all that, I got a feeling. I wanted to make something. I wanted to create. So I turned the music on and baked. Banana Chocolate chip cakes. With roasted almonds and cinnamon too. But that #needToMakeSomething feeling wasnt satisfied.
So while cakes cooled , I sat at the kitchen table and started writing a story.
(Yes after 3 years of no stories.)
Headphones on, music blasting, Red asleep under the table. Diet Coke on ice. Pausing only to taste test the cake. Of course. Because how can a story happen without the decadent sweetness of meltedlate choco with the crunch of salty almond?
It was supposed to be a true-to-life story about extends, wied family dramath some snark and humor thrown in. (with all the names changed and genders switched and key characters aged up or down so its NOT a true story based on any real people you and I know at all. Pure “fiction”! 😉) Yes thats what the story was. Thats the story I gracioustly ed into my house. What it wanted to be when I started writing it.invi
Until it wasnt. Because out of nowhere, something hijacked my story-flow. Something called fantasy and magic and curses ahnd sape-changing and aitu and birds who become women and lizards that speak and love that seeks to hold you captive #notInAGoodWay and jealousy thick green like the cloying dankness of mangrove swamp and death that isnt forever…
Its not thught I was writing. So I was glad to have story I thoe to stop midway and go to the team’s run training at Apia Park. Tooh sun and fresh air and yelling (nicely) at athlete mucs was somewhat helpful.
Now its today. And Im looking at this stohatry edw. This feral haormed creature. Slf-fasnt invit tnarling at me from the shadows. Do I really want to go there? I dont know.
