writing, teaching, traveling
My feeble memory goes back many decades to the Marcasite in my simple childhood rock collection. But this glimpse of the past soon was transformed into walking in the shoes of the elder tot Ellery as the two waifs trotted from their own despairing past to search for something, almost anything but what they had. Soon one becomes a child again and can see things as simple truths; water gurgling out the drain, the grey ring around the tub, fluffy pink towels, the deep expressions of their newly found miracle savors, and then the fear and anxiety of their future outcome. Looking forward to your next publishing episode.