Crises just demand that I dig in and conquer or find a detour that is too damn smart for the person, place or thing to disrupt too much life. (Grumpiness tends to accompany this energy.)
But… hand me good news. Especially good news in doses and I’m reduced to a snotty sniveling baby who giggles between fountains of tears.
Quiet Lost is a story of betrayal, murder, love and lost love. It will require several chapters to tell Neil’s story.
Tuesday morning, September 15
Tears streaked his cheeks. The pain, the regret, the disbelief crippled any action.
Finally the cold of lake water in his boots convinced him to budge from his paralysis. He pulled off his Bayfield dress boots and socks and tossed them toward the truck. He rolled over on his hands and knees, pushed himself up on his feet as if he were an old man, not his robust thirty-eight years. Continue reading