It poured today like Missouri rain that turned the creek to roiling milky chocolate, and filled the banks so high that the waterfalls turned into a series of low humps. I was glad of it. I drank tea of lemon and ginger, and black tea with honey and hemp milk. I inhaled thyme steam for my cough and I stood before the posterboard covered with the scenes for my novel and reworked the three act structure and I had a hard conversation with an old friend who called to ask if I was mad at her, or avoiding her.
“Yes. I’ve been avoiding you,” I said.
The rest of the conversation was raw, but honest every moment. I am breaking the habit of steering away from the truth to be likable. As I promised I would, down by the creek, on my altar that is now utterly submerged by this March weather.
It was a good, rainy day.