I don't want to know. It's too soon.
So, with my husband, I'll travel ... searching for fascinating settings and quirky characters. I'll eavesdrop on conversations to capture different voices, take note of impossible situations, and I'll write.
But first, I'll stop to smell the roses,
so sweet after rain. Their petals fall one by one. I'll save them as potpourri.
and I'll pick up my knitting needles. There's joy in physical creativity, too.
I'll play with Spitzli on the beach
and take her to visit my Aunty.
With the onset of autumn, to be followed by winter, the time has come to rewrap myself in writing. Time to think.
Now is not the time to discover if there's more to life than writing, nor to discover my core.