by Shelt Garner
We’ve officially entered the nadir of the year when disasters usually strike in a big way. Every year about this time, the entire Western world kind of grinds to a halt. The wealthy are on vacation, leaving interns to run the newsrooms of the world.
And as I write often — August sucks.
The last few days, I have been feeling a disturbance in the Force. I feel like Something Big is going to happen soon. I don’t know if this Big Thing will be personal or if it will be something that happens in the world at large. But I’m on edge. I feel like an existential sand wedgie.
As of right now, of course, it seems like this is all in my head — nothing is going to happen. And, to be honest, while I did feel a similar unease in the days leading up to breaking my ankle, I don’t believe in such things and it was just co-incidence, not any sort of premonition.
I do find myself feeling a little on edge just in general. I need to get something, anything done before I drop dead. I’m doing quite well with the first of six novels I’m developing and writing — but it takes time to do it. Time I’m growing more and more concerned that I may not have.