Summer Woe Cycle
Ficlets and Ficly survivor, FicMom, and Mistress of Well-Intentioned Indecision and Goddess of Unrequited Love. @ElshaHawk @HawkandYoung
I feel it building again. It begins as a whisper, a fleeting vision, a smell. I begin to think fondly of the ocean, a fun city, or a winding road through a gorgeous forest.
Then comes the envisioning of taking photographs, documenting the adventure forever. In the scenes, I am with a friend or 2 or 3. I am smiling and I am carefree.
Finally, my left brain logically takes the wheel and shatters my dream. I don't have the money to go anywhere. I don't have the friends available to share in the experience. My right brain crashes. It washes the left brain in waves of misery and despair, drowning the logic completely.
It's coming, this inevitable wanderlust, followed by the loneliness. As projects I use to distract myself come to completion, thoughts rise to the surface unhindered. I count the days, hours, minutes since my last adult human interaction outside of the house. I measure them on an impossible scale by amount of genuine understanding of me divided by the time spent. Small. I feel smaller.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
No sequels yet. Why not write one?
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