Dearest friends: Thank you to everyone who has been reading my stories. I appreciate your enthusiasm and feedback and it's easier to respond here rather than repeat myself over and over replying to you in the comments section.
I wrote Melanie's story first and I believe that it is going somewhere. I am currently working on an art student, who is in the class where Melanie poses, and I think these two women will become good friends and their journeys will intertwine. The story of Chris and Greg was a personal challenge I set for myself, attempting to make Chris a bit more sympathetic and not too flat a character. It is important to me that all the characters are human beings and I tend to work out a lot about who they are in order to write about them and it may or may not work it's way into a story.
While Melanie's story is going somewhere, Chris and Greg might just languish in my pile of notes that help, OR I might get a better grip on them and they may come to life yet.
Thank you again for your support and feedback! I write because I must, just as I paint because I must, but in the end what I create is meant to be shared. I may look as though I easily do that but I don't. It is a huge leap off a tall cliff. Thank you for being my safety net. In appreciation I offer you this bit of nonsense.....
Ode to A Cardigan
Oh cardigan how I love thee and am a fool for thy charms.
Thou belongest with nothing in my closet save perhaps a pair
Of ordinary blue jeans and a white tee shirt.
But Cardigan thy soft comfort compares only with my cat,
And cradles me in warmth and safety,
Comforts me with thy dusky blue and cream.
My heart beats for thee sweet cardigan, and longs for thee
When temperatures dip a mere degree and I reach out
Caring not that thou lookest entirely wrong with what I am wearing
...and are made of acrylic.
Oh cardigan I sometimes think I must begin again and build
My wardrobe anew so as only to possess clothing
Which suits thee well and complements thy perfection.
Cardigan, I am content to be wrapped in thine arms and knowing that
Thou taketh me as I am, dressed in green and purple
Clashing with thy pastel softness.