The fan is on 2, to let the brevity of warm air in.
The smells of Spring, frantic in their dispersal
I wait for the pain meds to kick in. Drink the coldest water.
Contemplate. For weeks now, my life has been played mainly in my head.
No physical action outside of the very basic. If I were a buddhist I would go on
about patience and peace. I am not patient. It is not in my core. I am a do it
now kinda gal. The first idea is usually the best. My idea is to get things moving.
Shake this town. Go west. I am a native Arizonian. I know desert and mountains.
Being part mermaid, I can dive deep into the cold. The stories in my book are
so personal it terrifies me. I can't go back and make them about someone else.
Its dishonest. Whats interesting are the oddities of life, leaving, coming back, leaving.

Grow on Rose Hill. Write anyways, when it gets scary keep going. This is what you give
when you are a writer. You give your insides and move on. It only hurts for a moment.
Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.