And now for some creative writing ...

It may be somewhat obvious that I'm not posting any where near as often as I was before. This is because I'm working. Working, in a real job, a wonderful job, up at 5 a.m., in full face and hair before 7, and on a train bound for my favorite city by 7:15a.m. It's wonderful, it's purposeful, it's ... well, exhausting. Yes, that too, and I am still adjusting.

So, as I focus on that adjustment, may I offer, for your enjoyment (and my bragging) one of my daughter's essays, a true story. This is ...


The Swan
by Elizabeth (Liz) Faber
(c) October 2007

I groaned as the car pulled over at the beach. Quickly, my Mom got out and walked over to a group of swans. “Over here! There’s got to be at least 10 of them!” she shouted. Despite my aching stomach, I got up and walked into the sand, whining. The sand felt so sloshy and good on my feet that it actually made me feel a bit better.

I trotted over to my mom. There standing before me were at least 10 big, white swans acting like we weren’t there. The beautiful harmony birds were prettier than any other bird you would see. They were so white that if they were any whiter, they might hurt your eyes. As my mom started to walk over to the ocean, the beautiful white birds of peace were not taking notice of me at all. So, I took a step forward. One of them turned its head toward me. I took another. The swan turned around and faced me. Before I could take one more step, the bird started flapping its wings, but it did not take off. I took another step, and suddenly it charged me like a bull! Out of instinct, I boomed to my car, and slammed the door! When I caught my breath and looked back, the bird was just eating out of the little trough on the sand.

The bird of “peace” had tricked me.