Things never go the way you plan
I had more than a few setbacks since this year started. I’ve had to put on my big girl pants and push through, even though I’d rather wallow in my misery. For instance, I’d planned on having my first book in six years published by now, but it hasn’t happened. I’ve had to push back the publication of Dawn-Wolf until the end of April. Crossing my fingers (does that even work) that I can keep to that schedule.
It's not just me that has had a lot going on though. My beta and proofreaders have had their fair share of lemons catapulted in their direction. If I have to wait a little longer so be it. I’ll not be making the same mistake I made years ago when I was a newbie author. Post-publication editing is not a good look. Although I’m not saying it may not happen, mistakes happen and typos etc can slip through the cracks.
Below I’ve left a link for a recipe for lemon curd. I love homemade lemon curd.
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Stuffed
Back to the Future - Part One
Cain found himself back on the sofa, Wanda sitting beside him. He avoided eye contact with her. She looked angry. Her face softened a little as she spoke. “I hope you have learned something tonight. Anyway, whether you did or not, my time is up. You’ll receive another visit this evening.”
“I’ve seen enough already.”
“I don’t think so. Besides, your next visitor won’t be taking you to your past. It will be something far scarier.” She planted a cold kiss on his cheek. He shuddered. “Goodbye, Cain. Maybe we’ll meet again one day.”
Wanda’s previous words sounded ominous. “What will they show me?” His heart thudded.
“That would be telling”, she mocked, as she dissolved into the night. Her barking seal laugh reverberated around the living room. “Oops, I nearly forgot.” Cain nearly fell off the sofa when Wanda reappeared. The twinkle in her eyes had returned. He flinched when her cold hand tapped his forearm. “What happened to your tribal tattoos?”
He cleared his throat before answering, “They were henna tattoos. I have a needle phobia. Don’t poke fun at me I had enough of that with Tiffany.”
“I wouldn’t do that. I just wanted to satisfy my curiosity.” The corners of Wanda’s lip curled into a faint smile. “One more thing before I go. Quit with the twelve cups a day of coffee and whiskey habit. You’ll thank me for it.” She waved. “Bye, Cain.”
“Bye, Wanda.” She vanished again and then all was silent for a while.
I am going mad, he thought to himself.
“No, you’re not,” said a black object, with white button eyes, green wool for hair, and a red felt tongue. The sock puppet appeared to be floating in mid-air beside Cain.
He leapt up from the sofa. “What the f…”
The sock interrupted him. “Yeah, I know what you were going to say. I am used to colourful language. I just wish someone would be original. By the way, I’m Socky. Yeah, yeah, not very original too. And before you ask, my pronoun is he, not it.” Socky eyed the bag of Doritos. “I’m starving.” His button eyes focused with intensity on the Doritos. Suddenly, the bag levitated and floated towards the sock puppet. Upon opening the orifice that served as a mouth, the tortilla chips flew upwards and inside Socky.
Cain watched, dumbfounded as the empty bag dropped to the floor. Socky gave a loud burp. “Oops sorry. I have no teeth, so they’re a little hard to digest.”
“Please tell me this isn’t real and just a weird dream. Wanda was bad enough, but sock puppets!” Cain rolled his eyes.
“Nope, I’m not allowed to lie. From all accounts, men like you are the expert in that department.” Socky’s white button gaze examined Cain’s face.
He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “That barista must have drugged my coffee.”
Socky laughed. “I am not a hallucination. A bit weird perhaps, but nope I’m not a result of narcotics”.
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing, but I am hurt that you don’t recognise me.”
Cain had no recollection of Socky. “Should I?”
“Maybe not, you go through a lot of socks. Never mind, close your eyes and no peeking.”
“Why”
“Why do you people always have to question everything”, Socky sighed. “Just do it will you.”
He did as Socky asked and closed his eyes. After what seemed to him only a few seconds, Socky ordered him to open them. Cain found himself sitting at a table for four, in a darkened room. In front of him stood a stage, lit with garish lights of various colours and in the centre of the stage stood a pole. Music blasted out from speakers on either side of the stage. A red neon Merry Christmas sign over a bar flickered on and then off. The men occupying all the other seats whistled and cheered after an announcement about the next act.
“Why have you brought me here, Socky?”
“To show you the future.”
