I’ve just finished two more flash pieces in my Emotion series. They were about empathy. I’m not the type to easily feel sorry for people so this was a bit of an eye opener and challenge for me. Up next I’m working on fear. The fiction piece will be much fun. I plan to write a bit of horror. I see something gritty and grainy and old fashioned. I see some type of monster with tension holding it all together. I’m excited to get working on it, just a bit more mental grease is needed before it all spews out my fingers to the keyboard.

Now, the non-fiction piece will be about little H. There is no way on this planet that I can think of a time I was scared and not think of the day she stopped breathing. It is the only time in my life when I felt real fear. Sure, there were times when my breath caught in my throat if our car swerved on icy roads. When thunder clapped overhead when I was young. When the big kids told the bloody hook story over a campfire at girl guide camp. But now, that I’ve had this experience with little H, I know that those other times were just thrills. Thrills like riding a roller coaster or playing ‘Bloody Mary’ in a dark closet while five little girls laughed right outside with their ears pressed to the door. I’m not looking forward to writing it but I have to.