Back to Basics
If you’re easily offended, get over it. This is fiction. FICTION. It’s just a story that came from my mind.
November 5, 2024, is a day that will go down in history, at least in my books. It was just over 30 years ago. I call it D-Day, or maybe T-Day, either way, I mark it as the beginning of the end.
I was a young woman then, a very young woman, younger than you’d ever imagine looking at me. The calendar said I was 39. My body and mind said something very different. In any case, I was a young mother and wife. My son, Connor, Prudence’s father was 12 and aside from the usual pre-teen angst, he was a delight.
Connor was my mini-me. He had my cheekbones (which are killer, by the way) and nose, my brown waves, with just a hint of red and my build, thick but thin, athletic. He also had my mind. We shared a strong interest in politics and social justice and were working, in our own ways to make the world a better place.
In a way, we were growing up together, each of us coming into our own side by side, but separately. He was gaining confidence as a young man. I was gaining confidence in my skin as a woman. When they say it’s a lifelong journey, they aren’t kidding.
We both had big dreams for the world and quite a bit of optimism. On many fronts, we seemed to be headed…
