Happy Saturday! I’m about to be off with my family to get our passports for a trip this spring. It’s cold, but I sense the sun making a half-hearted attempt at peeking out. Sadly, my kids’ school lock-in was canceled because they thought the weather would be bad (it’s not). The good news is, we have tickets to go see a friend in a show tonight instead.
I’m snipping again from Ashes & Alms, my short story in the Never Too Late anthology. I think I short-changed on a sentence, but it wouldn’t make sense to add the next one. So here is the opening paragraph for the story. No, it’s not really religious, despite the mention of missionaries. I tend to write about the complexities of belief/non-belief and identity.
Jo stared at the card in her hand. It was addressed under her pre-married name, Hodges. She hadn’t yet changed it back, even after two divorces, the most recent one less than a year old. The person had sent it to her eighty-three-year-old mother, who had laughed and forwarded it on. Even she recognized the sheer foolishness of anyone thinking Jo wanted to be reminded of her missionary summer.
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