A goddess visted me. And told me to get to work. Writers were supposed to be writing, not just complaining about their writer’s block.She told me that what you don’t use, you lose. So my imagination was something to exercise. Of course, the way she was dressed left little to the imagination. And as she got closer, it was more evident…Excerpt:A goddess came to me last night.She said there was a gold mine between my ears, but I’d have to start using it. Until I did, I could spend none of it. And wouldbe working hand-to-mouth for the rest of my life. She wore a gossamer-thread shift over her, whichwas a bit distracting. Golden hair, clear blue eyes. None of thiscovered her feminine features very well. Have you ever seen gossamer? It’s extremely thin, and rare. It’s the stuff young spiders put out in order to catch thewind and fly to their new homes. Of course, it’s the same stuff websilk is made from, so is extremely tough. When you walk through thewoods, you’ll find that across trails and catching in your face. Sotough that you can almost hear it "pling" as it breaks. Sothin that you barely see it except when you catch the sun glintingoff it. So making an entire garment out of this would beexpensive, and humans wouldn’t find it possible."Fairies." She said."Huh?" I asked."Fairies collected and wove these strandsinto cloth." She said."Well, that would make sense. Providing youbelieve in fairies." I replied."They don’t need you to believe in them. Thatrumor got started by a writer and his stage play." A slightfrown crossed her face. "Fairies only appear in your universe ifyou believe in them. That’s the trick. They still exist regardless ofwhether you believe in them or not. But they only show up if you askthem, or expect them, even as a stray thought.""Like the odd times that you see a singlesmall branch waving in the wind, but you feel no wind, and nothingelse is moving." I said."Exactly. But that might not be a fairy.Might be a goblin. Might be a poltergeist." she said."Could be helpful. Could be dangerous. Howwould I tell?" I asked."Only by accepting it as it is and figuringout how to talk with it. If you can’t see it, you haven’t accepted itenough, yet." she answered."So I see only what I want to see." Isaid."Sure, like it’s always been. Like you don’thear the teacher sometimes in class. Like when you ‘tune out’ to somerecording and find it ‘rewritten’ when you listen to it again – newsections you’d ‘never heard’ before. This is old stuff. You’ve beenthrough this. Selective perception." She idly played with aloose thread on the bed’s quilt…Bonus Short Stories Included:Max Says "No." – When the pet dog starts talking by refusing to get into the pickup truck cab, it was time to have a conversation with him…A Nervous Butt- Not the only talking animal on this farm, an expectant momma cow tells her worries to the farmer who is caring for her. Starting out by knocking him down…Get Your Copy Now.
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