I don’t know about you, but I always have a slight sinking feeling when all is going well, an apprehension, as I wait for whatever disaster will come next. Yet when it comes I always seem to cope, so why do I worry?
Take Covid. I realise for some it was totally heart-breaking, but for me, sitting safely inside my bubble, it became a blessing. A time to stop, sit back, appreciate the good things around me. The love of family, the closeness of friends, the beauty of nature, things often taken for granted in the hustle and bustle of normal life. I even began to enjoy my solitude.
Yet when ‘The Storm’ hit my region on the 25th June things changed. I certainly wasn’t prepared for it, neither could I see it’s beauty, as water cascaded from under doors trashing my possessions on its journey.
At first I just felt sorry for myself, but it wasn’t long before that turned to anger. Why me!
I guess it was anger that won in the end. I saw the storm as a vicious beast which had attacked both me and my property, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to let it win. So I wrote… as walls and carpets soaked up water and people came in and out of my home in an attempt to dry it out.
The walls are still wet … but during that time I put together a book of short stories, which I defiantly called, ‘Frolicking in the Flood’. My computer skills are poor, yet in that time I even managed to conquer the great KDP mountain. Do take a look, I would love to hear your comments, good and bad. Long live anger!