Novel in November

The gold beckons.  The story of the silver begs for shine.

It seems that this may be for now, that the fantasy wants fed while reality rests.

I called my school and it looks as if I just may be able to take November off.  And I have a wisp of an idea. And, too, when really quiet I can hear God's breathing, the calling to come away.  Sometimes these whispers take me deeper into an imagination, which is still somehow real.

That is how it was with the first idea.  Which fueled me for so long but now has been shelved, maybe permanently.

And so I'm listening for the next invite to escape.

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