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Prime Time 1:54 a.m. 11/5/22

We're out of hurricane season--almost. One more time to mow the lawn tomorrow. I finished the birthday cake only sharing one slice. I'll pay for that. I'm sure.


The new characters are calling me and nagging me to finish a sequel. This one will involve telepathy and ghosts. We all have that other sense. It's when you call somebody who needs you at just the right time, the dear old friend in the ER waiting room or the daughter who swears she's fine until you start talking and she spills. I believe dogs and cats have telepathy too. Tiggy helped me through a rough stretch when her doggy-brother passed. The new dog sits next to me and looks at me, and I swear young Fiona (yes, named after my character) knows what I'm thinking. Is it the way we're breathing? I've often wondered if she can hear my heart beating. Or is it some mannerisms? Anyway, I'm going to give young Laurel and Andi and Eli and Fiona the satisfaction of some attention at my writing prime time tonight. More later.

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