Notes - Real life, Fasting, & Please, no faery tale ending

         After twenty-one hundred hours. Another busy day, part of it driving to Cleveland, supper at Olive Garden, Paul is in bed, Carol and Kim are talking home economics in the kitchen, you are socially free to do as you wish and are surprised to be working on your notes because you have nothing to say.

         I did say “Peace and Good Will to one and all!” to my Facebook friends this morning before we left. I like the phrase and I like that it is not religious or political in its nature, . . . just a simple human thought most everyone understands even though they may not fully abide by the concept in daily practice.

         You are ready for bed and wondering what could possibly be on your mind concerning your story.

         I have more to clean up in scene thirteen, which I can work on tomorrow as Kim and Carol are going shopping early then making varieties of cookies for tomorrow night and Saturday. Paul will be here to take care of Owen. Right now I am relatively tired and Carol and Kim have made their way upstairs for bed.

         I guess what is bothering me is that I don’t want to write a faery tale where everyone involved ends up enjoying the conclusion. I don’t think my characters would like that either. Real life demands gallows humor, that’s how I see it. I don’t think human beings are built for happy endings. Where is the struggle in a happy conclusion? Dead people making love and enjoying it. I cannot imagine this scene even if it is only a once in death probability.

         You wrote a faery tale once.

          I did. I mailed it to someone who does not exist. I kept no copy. It was a freebee. Someone did receive it, so someone read it. I did not eat anything but water for thirty-three days during those times. I taught during this experience and it was witnessed by immediate family and by a friend, a colleague, G.P., when I taught at Wm. Mason High School. On the thirty-third day I felt sick in the morning and had something to eat. I guess I wanted to see how long I could fast. I don’t remember feeling bad about stopping the fast. The food tasted good, I had a small bowl of cereal, probably Cheerios or Raisin Bran and cold milk. I can remember the food traveling down my throat. And, I thought, ‘when I am dead I will not be able to eat any more food.’ That’s what I remember. This has nothing to do with the book though.

         Yes, it does. Leave this as is. Post. Get some sleep. – Amorella.