Summer’s leaving so fast. The heat, the wildfires, the desperate downward spiral.

It has been one to remember.

I see how the world goes and can’t help but wonder. Am I a twig in face of a tsunami?

Using kindness as a block, in a way that could never hold back the tide.

I’ve always wanted to be a writer. I have ideas on top of ideas.

I’m not sure the world will let us survive long enough to see them through.

I’m not sure I’ll make it.

None of us do, in the end. If we’re lucky, our works will outlast us. The question is, with climate change, the rise of right wing nuttery and increasing division and stupidity, will the world outlast any of us, let alone the things we create?

I’m building a world on kindness. Increasingly, I find the world wants nothing to do with it.

Target: 1500 words
Written: 2405 words, novel: Father Lightning