Below is the first chapter of my work-in-progress, One Dyke Cozy. I would love any feedback that you want to give. * * *
We think of time differently depending on where we are in our life. When we’re ten, it’s almost impossible to imagine being forty, let alone twice that. The years stretch before us like a lazy summer’s day. No hurry, no responsibilities, nothing but wonderful, endless time.
Even reaching the milestones of eighteen and twenty-one doesn’t register on our radar all that much. Sure, we’re adults now, but we’re still young, and the years have yet to touch us with any degree of harshness.
There is no set time when reality hits. It’s different for everyone, and some people are close to the end of the line when it happens. But at some point, we wake up and realize that we are middle-aged, and there is still so much left to do. So many of those childhood dreams are unfulfilled, but now we’re tied down with the various ropes that make up our everyday lives. Those little things that were so insignificant ten or fifteen years ago, but now have become insurmountable barriers that stand between us and everything yet undone.
It’s at this point that we may take a brutally honest look at our life, weighing our incompletions against the time that we feel remains. And it’s then that we often pray for more. More time to make green the seeds we planted in our youth. All of those dreams that we once knew would blossom into reality because we had so much time ahead of us to make it happen.
Most people ask for years, and they are the lucky ones. Lucky because they know that nothing but time stands between them and the achievement of their goals. They know that there are steps to take, and that those steps won’t happen overnight, but they are confident that they will succeed. All they need is a few more years.
However, there are many of us for whom the concept of years has become as much a fairy tale as Cinderella’s glass slipper. Perhaps we are ill, and our doctors have gently told us to say our goodbyes and take what enjoyment we can from the days ahead. Perhaps we are simply old, with so much road behind us that we cannot see more than a block or two ahead.
Whatever the case, we do not ask for more years. We simply ask for more. More time, in any denomination, is all that we want. A few more weeks, another month, even one more day. Just…one more day.
Amazing things can happen in a day. Medical Science may discover an uber cure for everything that currently ails modern man. Some technological genius could put the finishing touches on permanently young android bodies, so perfectly made the even the people inhabiting them could not tell the difference. Or maybe the Lord would call his children home, sparing us the trauma of having to die at all. So many miracles are just within reach and maybe only a day or two away. Someone once told me that the tragedy is not to die, but to die too soon.
You may be wondering why I included myself in the group for whom each moment is a gift, and maybe I’ll write about that at some point. But that’s not what this story is about. This is my chance to tell you about the person who had the greatest impact on my life, and who was largely responsible for the person that I became: my best friend, Shy.
Through Shy I learned some of the most important lessons of my life. She taught me to fight like a champion, love like a poet, and live like it was my last day on Earth.
So please sit back, get comfortable, and spend a few minutes bouncing through the years with Shy, and the one dyke cozy. * * *
I hope that you enjoyed taking a peek at #Cozy. If all goes well, it should be on Amazon’s virtual shelves somewhere around the first of March.
Thank you so much for stopping by my blog. I apologize for being gone so long, but sometimes, life gets worky. I’ll be back next week with another post, and hopefully I’ll be able to stay on track. I appreciate your patience, and your understanding.