Early Morning Rain
I was just getting ready to leave for my Tuesday teaching day when I heard a familiar plunk inside my front door. Early. Eight a.m. I looked out the window to see the PO truck driving away, chugging up the street while our terrier mix Gizmo barked at the door where the package was left. I did not want to open the door because lately, these early morning deliveries have been sad. This morning was no different. I wasn’t surprised to find my novel manuscript, returned to me.
I know writing, creating, discovering has its rewards. And I know rejection is as common as Gizmo’s bark; still, the familiar ache never changes.
Time to put the raincoat on and go see my students.
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I’m sorry for your disappointment. Your first paragraph, however, is such surprising writing; it takes me from thinking, cozily, that the “familiar plunk” is the newspaper’s arrival to my learning, gradually and with gravitas, that it’s your manuscript. We travel a long way in a few sentences.
Jane Nov 9, 04:29 pm