Writing is my passion but not my profession. Had I been courageous in college I’d’ve studied creative writing instead of history. I suppose for most of us the past inevitably becomes that gnawing question that bends even the biggest of smiles, what if? No matter. Today, I blog stories for strangers both as a hobby and as a creative outlet. If I had to describe them, my stories that is, I’d use a word that was once ascribed to me, eerie.
Years ago I had a boss, a man built more like a high school football coach than a manager for a women’s shoe store. He gave me a performance evaluation and added, “you’re a bit eerie.” I smiled discreetly holding the laughter in my throat because how was it that a seventeen year old girl spooked a middle-aged man?
I’m not a frightening person. My skin isn’t scaled and grey, my eyes don’t bulge from their sockets. In fact, my face is plump and pink. I wear the same set of clothes each week because I hate shopping and despise clutter. My hair is a tamed mess and social gathering make me nauseated. I’m reticent because I hate the word shy and I love animals, but am scared of most of them. So,this is my blog. A place to store stories and I hope you find them entertaining or at the very least eerie.