Disappointment
Disappointment, in her gown of scissors and pins, strode into my room this week and placed her bony hands on my shoulders.
Though perhaps not as vicious as her ugly stepsister, regret, she is still quite capable of stealing both appetite and energy, and throwing a cloud right over the sun.
The writer’s retreat in Marrakesh that I was to attend during the month of February was cancelled, and I am crestfallen.
If I were a colour, I would be grey.
If I were a book, I would be dry as dust.
If I were a song, I would be sung in a minor key.
Now I am too much of a Pollyanna to stay in this state for long, but I intend to have a right wallow this weekend.
And fair warning, ice cream may be involved.
Times like these, it’s good to have a dog who commiserates.
So say something to make us laugh, okay?
