I was walking up my hardwood stairs today wearing socks, cradling my open laptop in my left arm and clutching a full, hot cup of coffee in my right hand.
As I went up the stairs, my dog Tuffy was racing up with me under my feet.
Some background . . .
My laptop: Full of all my short stories, various other pieces of writing, school work, music downloads, photos.
The cup of joe: Coffee not important, but the mug it was in was hand-crafted pottery made by my wife Erin.
As I carefully made my way up the stairs I dreaded taking a fall. Not for fear of getting hurt or spilling coffee or even breaking the laptop. Rather, it was the metaphor of the fall that frightened me most.
Because if my life was fiction and my character simultaneously drops a) a machine equated to his creative expression and hard work, and b) a mug crafted by his wife's loving and caring hands, it could only be foreshadowing for the disaster and heartbreak looming around the corner.
Thankfully, I made it up the stairs unscathed.
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1 comment:
Oh, how fact blurs into fiction in the creative person's mind...great post.
Anne
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