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If I could pick one place in the world to sit and write my next story, I choose a small cabin on a warm beach and in front of the vast, untamed ocean. I'm sitting at an outside table with my computer.
The day starts cloudy and warm, slowly turning hot. As I write, I observe the birds playing in the waves or looking for foods; watch the flies buzzing with news of this or that, and spy a lizard sitting on a rock beside me quietly warming. Boats move into and from a dock. A seagull stands on an orange circle on the railing of the walking path and beneath the bird is written, LIFE RING. I know I'm safe and can journey more into the story I must tell while life around me preforms as usual.
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