Right
now, I’m sitting in my car on the side of Route 95, waiting for a tow truck.
I
should clarify… By the time I actually post this blog, months will have gone by
since my fateful non-adventure. I’m probably sitting at work instead, hitting
the “publish” button and getting myself mentally situated for the work day. Or
maybe I’m lounging on a sandy beach with a Long Island iced tea in my hand.
Wouldn’t
that be nice…
But
I digress.
Sitting
here, with my $50 worth of groceries hopefully not dying around me, and my phone
charging in my car for a few minutes so that it doesn’t die altogether, I’m
very grateful for my laptop. I just finished Kindle-izing “Up in the Air,” the third
– but not the last – book in my Faerietales series (available on Amazon in print too. Hint. Hint), and now I’m
blogging.
How
much fun is that!
When
I called my friendly State Farm helpline, the woman on the other end very
kindly warned me to be careful about interacting with anyone who might stop to
give me assistance.
My
reply? “Oh, don’t worry. I’m a creative writer. I can think up plenty of ways
that can go bad.”
She
laughed, which is what I intended. (Hey, if you can’t laugh at life, then
you’re probably gonna cry.)
Nonetheless,
I do have to wonder what would happen if I was one of the hapless characters in
my stories. Since I don’t write romance, I suppose there’s no way some gorgeous
tall man with dark hair, green eyes and wide shoulders is going to rescue me.
Drat.
More
likely I’ll have someone come and kidnap me by mistake for a political plot.
After all, I am on 95… a route that Kayla took twice in “The Politician’s
Pawn.”
That’s
why, when a man with a tow truck that I didn’t order came knocking on my window
half an hour ago, offering to give me a cheap tow, I rolled down my window just
a little bit and told him thanks, but no thanks.
He
was probably harmless. I didn’t get a single creeper-vibe from him. But if my
stories have taught me one thing… You can never be too careful.
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