a wicked imagination

I wrote a story over on the other blog that felt like a scene from Fantasia…

Sometimes you meet someone and they are larger than life, sometimes you met someone and they reveal  themselves to be larger than life… I am becoming quite engrossed in the idea of expatriates and how dangerous it can be. Really, our world is full of such stories, and even some that have been lost to obscurity die to the land they have chosen.

So, I was thinking about my friends peninsular grandmother and the revolution she faced and how she went on to become the gracious woman I met and I was thinking of her as she fought against her environment and I was watering my cactus and I could feel the cactus spines flying into my hands as I held the hose and I began to imagine the battles that I would have to fight with these symbols of the land she grew up in.

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