Down the Rabbit Hole

New Moons and Craisins

It has been a shamefully long time since I've updated my blog. I've been telling myself I have to get back to writing, but it seems I can always come up with an excuse or two, or four. Instead, I sort of meander along, half listening to that voice inside my head that "notices things" like the girl with the scraggy hair waiting on the steps of the high school where I walk. The girl with the too-blue blue jeans and the sad eyes, with her small, heart-shaped face resting in the palm of one hand, her knees together, a shiny ankle bracelet catching the morning sun. The girl waiting and thinking all by herself. There is a story there, I'm certain of it. Or the man at the wall, waiting for the tiny white toy dog at the end of the cherry red leash to go to the bathroom. The brim of his ball cap pushed back, revealing too much forehead and eyes that shift off and around with an erratic, almost panicked rhythm. Oh yeah, I'm sure there is a story there too. I take these characters, this man and this girl, carry them with me into work, knowing that while they beg me to tell their tales, I'll likely never give them life. I'm far too busy with work, that and I'm still hacking through my stories about my own ghosts.