I liken my mind to a tornado: swirling like the dickens and indiscriminate in direction, followed by an eerie silence and scattered debris. It was two weeks ago I came across the fodder for this post – an in-flight magazine article by fellow writer (fellow meaning she writes for magazines and I would like to write for magazines) Sarah Twain (not her real surname). Since then my head has been spinning with images I've been itching to get down on paper before they lose whatever small measure of…
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