I took some of you along. Sorry. Had to be done, couldn't help it.
I can't believe some of you ignored my warning. I bet Taylor peeked. The wife recoiled at the first paragraph and turned and left the room. Hearing my mad laughter later, she queried, and finally read them both. Not her cup of tea, but she gave me reluctant props. Malaprops.
You see, the first post just popped right into my head, and I had to write it. The picture was right there. Some people have to paint, I had to write. I saw every detail of the room. Of her. I had to know.
But I knew better, and thus, the warning. Enter at your own risk. I chose to do it here, rather than in the privacy of Word, because this is where I am most comfortable. It is that simple.
The second post sprang from the first, from simple (to my mind, anyway) logical progression. It had to be, and it had to be that way. Whenever I began to color outside of the lines, I heard an alarm jangle, erased, and got back with the program.
If I continue this (and that is not assured) you and I will both have to see where it leads, and go there together. Or not. My only choice is to not write it. Your only choice is not to read.
Stephen King has flirted with Christian Horror a time or two, like a virgin pursing her lips to smooch her first glans...oh, that's not really fair, a couple of times he has just cannonballed into it, but mostly, I think he has that Liberals 'fear of offending' thing going. 'What will people think?'
Well, I don't give a shit. Go show your receipt and get your money back.
And if I tell you not to read something, well...
Maybe you should listen.