Have you ever written a story that decided it didn’t want to be told in the way that you wanted it to be told? Voila. My story for this moment. This was written for Carrot Ranch. I wrote it with one intention, of her ruling the roost, so to speak, but another took over. Pantsing.
Within a week, I called friends, figured out how I could get Joe to Toronto. The one thing missing from my equation was Joe.
“I can’t run,” he said.
Have you ever looked at someone you loved and wanted to beat his beautiful face? I did.
“It’s not running away. It’s saving your life.”
He nodded, his eyes sad. “But, Jilly, if I run away, what will we have? I can’t come home? See the folks?”
I looked up at my cowboy, “We can visit.”
“Aw, hon, my friends have already gone. It’s my turn.”
I let him go.