I’m still writing…but I am taking more breaks. The intensity level is high. I began a chapter on meeting my Council but then received information that needed to go before that chapter. So, the Council chapter, partially written, keeps getting a later, and later chapter number.

This excerpt is from Chapter 5: Understanding:

Still seated on the sofa, photo album solidly on my lap, I flip to the next page.

A photo comes into focus. Dad is holding me close, left hand cradling me against his chest, my tiny face barely noticeable in the photo. He is standing in front of the house under the old oak tree, tire swing noticeably absent. It won’t be hung for another two years. In his right hand is a leash. Lily, our springer spaniel mix, sits patiently at Dad’s feet, tongue lolling as if tired from a recent walk.

Lily. I loved her so much.

A familiar, masculine voice answers my thought.

“Would you like to see her?”

The dusky smell of cigarette smoke wafts through the room, followed by panting and the sound of paws on the hardwood. I smile and put out my left hand. I feel a cold nose and slobbery tongue. Looking down, my heart fills with joy.

“Lily! I’m so glad you’re here!” I lean down and wrap my arms around her. The smell of wet dog overwhelms my senses. “Oh no! You’ve been swimming again.” I laugh and pat her lovingly on the head. She rears up, barks, and jumps into my lap. I fall back into the couch cushions and roughhouse with her. “Now we both smell like wet dog!”

A warm chuckle catches my attention. I look up. There, standing next to the sofa, is Dad. He has a golden glow about him and his hazel eyes dazzle. With his entrance, the strange, raspy wail of a metal-combed harmonica pierces the air.

I stop petting Lily, my attention focused entirely on the last person to see me alive. While I expected his visit, my soul still retracted and my chest tightened from the lingering after-effects of the energy he carried in life.

Dad looks at me, his smile fading to a concerned frown. His forehead wrinkles in worry. He lets out a sigh.

“How about we go for a walk?”

Lily barks loudly. She leaps off the couch and jumps repeatedly in the air, snapping at the leash my dad is still holding in his hand. Her excitement is contagious. I smile. “Okay. I’m up for a walk.”