I’m lying on my back, on top of my quilt, trying to keep my fists from clenching. Thoughts of what should have been, but never happened, replay in my head. Want to think about the future of my upcoming, about to be published novel, "I Know You by Heart." I fantasize about even it’s remote chance of becoming a film and I try to choose actors who fit the characters.
There’s practically a slim to no chance of anything that glorious happening to me or the book. It’s just not part of my lifelong profile. Wishing there was someplace to go today that wouldn’t cost money. It’s too cold and rainy to sit by the river and dream.
Friends are out and about, children worrying about their own lives, husband napping, as usual, and the dog is on the steps, being overly concerned about the gusting wind.
I lay nearby my desktop computer, hoping to find the words to turn my next book into gold. Supine is my best way to make ideas come to mind. But nothing comes today but weary worry. I only have thoughts of what I hope and the wish that it will be. I can’t even seem to make that pipedream flash before my eyes.
Sometimes, I get in the shower, hours after I’ve already bathed, to get the Delta waves in my brain flowing freely. I’ve been told that water playing on your back and skull will haul creative thoughts to your brain, ready to roll out on paper. After today’s experiment with water, I find that I can only write creative emails to friends.
Think I’ll close my eyes, once more, and see more of what will probably happen, even if it’s not what I wish to happen.