This thing I am working on...

Not quite at this point yet, but close.

I have been completely MIA for a while now. Taking care of myself at home. Going a little crazy, stuck in the house I started working on this thing. Book? Short story? Narcissistic dramatic diary entries? Pure drivel? I don't know. But it's a thing. And I've been working on it. I wanted to share one of the little entries with you, all true, of course:

She walks to her favorite restaurant nearby, after cooking herself dinner, for some wine. Explains to the owner and waiter that she is just going to have a drink and doesn’t want to take up a table. But it is late and they recognize her and they don’t really care about things like that anyway. They take her to a quiet table in the back of the restaurant, the whole place is glowing with candlelight as couples and groups dine and chatter softly around her. She orders a glass of white wine and sits down to write a letter to her Grandma.
Dear Grandma, she always begins.
She tells her about the restaurant and how much she savors these small moments alone. She tells her Grandma about how it comforts her to think that maybe she is also having a quiet glass of wine by herself at this exact same moment so in a way, they are having one together. Though they are both very much alone, which sometimes worries her in regards to her Grandmother, who feels so far away. It is a nice letter, she has gotten much better at writing honestly and naturally instead of in a formal matter so stereotypical of the crap your supposed to write your Grandparents. And her Grandmother can tell, their relationship is growing more intimate and solid through these letters as a result. But without a doubt, no matter what, they always have and forever will discuss the topic of weather. In every single letter past, present, future, the weather, it wins.
This is her last Grandparent. The reality of this sometimes hits her and she wonders what she will be capable of doing when that time comes. She hopes that she will do what she hopes she will do.
A second glass of wine now that the letter is finished. This one goes down quicker as she sits and watches the room around her. All these thoughts, about everything and nothing. She smiles as the waiters float by and by. And then it’s time to go back home.

One morning Catherine woke up and there was a dove perched on her windowsill. It was looking right at her. It stayed for a while there. She felt so protected.

So that's just one of the little scribbles that's come out of me. It feels really good to resurrect some of these memories, not really sure what will come of it all, but I suggest you all give it a try. Anyway, will be back to work and life soon, making more memories to write about next time I'm out for the count......love you all, have a most triumphant time (does that tell you what movie I recently saw?)