These days, I’m done with classes at 11.30 on Wednesdays … which means lots of time to write, and be merry. With spring now holding us by the pant cuff, I went off to the Riegevy Sady beer garden to do some writing.
The sun was shining, the garden had a few dozen people, and I ordered a cold beer to take with me over to a secluded (more or less) picnic bench. I wrote for an hour. And then I came home.
Okay, not much action or drama in this story, but then, that’s what happens when I write: all the action happens between brain and pen.