Come sit on the back porch with me, will you, or maybe it is I who’s ready to leave the Bayou State???
Had a fantasy last fall driving to work all about a story I would write but I know the story was me. A woman driving to work suddenly turns her car around, goes home, tosses a few things into a suitcase and leaves, drive to Cherokee reservation in North Carolina and lives on a mountaintop with dogs…thought of Earl in the mountains. Could have done it.
That evening walking out of work to the parking garage, a young couple in the Medical School were also leaving but the husband was carrying a pet porter and the wife was carrying the most beautiful puppy who was already big. I asked if the pup was a Blue Merle and she was so surprised that I knew and exclaimed yes. And that pup started kissing my hand, sweetest little face. When I asked her name, the lady told me, “Summit, because we like to hike mountain trails.” I was taken aback, should take it as a sign, I thought, given my dream of the morning.
You want to extract me, I think, because you have walked ways I have not yet walked and have an edge of perspective and insight. I’m not as stubborn as I used to be.
Yesterday, once again in the car, driving home, it suddenly dawned on me that I’ve been writing professionally for thirty years now. Thirty years. Is it time to stop now? A full adult lifetime of years spent in writing. So glad I told you. And now, I will get dressed, still in jammies as happens when bothered, and head off to buy scented candles. I’m fresh out.