Most of you know what's been going on. And if you're a little behind on the blogs, with that statement just leading you to wonder what the latest disaster is... my mother has covid-19.
I think that's enough disaster to be getting on with.
This month of nightmares, care center escapes onto ice, X-rays showing a broken femur, dementia flares which never end and now this... I'm allowed to understate, so let's go with 'there's been a lot on my mind.' Very little of it has been about anything funny. But when there's something horrible in your life, and it feels like the only way to get any of it out is to channel it into six different voices...
I probably failed, at least when it comes to getting it out of my head. I'm still going to think about it: I have very little choice in that right now. And this is a 7100-word story which probably earned its Dark tag. It might make you think about it. It is, to use the old phrase about my real-world inspired work, too close.
You might think about it.
If you do, see your doctor.
Fill out the papers.
Before someone else has to think about it.