A weird, ghostly image floats back and forth in the front window of my neighbor’s house across the street. Now, if it were a moonlit night, and the wind was blowing with an eerie sound, and I happened to glimpse that faint, disembodied object, my mystery writer’s brain would go into high gear. As it is, it is morning, the sun is shining, and he has some sort of sun catcher hanging from his porch. The mystery is just a reflection.
I wonder if a lot of ghost stories get their start with something entirely ordinary and explainable, but at first glance seems other-worldly. Well, thank goodness for those eerie happenings. Without them, where would mystery writers be? I wonder if I could use that reflection somewhere in Moonlight Can Be Murder?
Speaking of which, tomorrow is that special time when Cozy Critters gather for our critique. I am looking forward to hearing what each one has written or read, or both. Jane confided that she has a new inspirational piece which really piques my curiosity. And I want their expert opinions on what I have written so far in MCBM. Reading a story in progress is like serving a homemade recipe to a group of food connoisseurs. The chef asks them to each taste the soup (or whatever) and give their opinion on what is tasty and what is lacking. I take my connoisseurs’ advice very literally.
It is hard to believe, with the sun shining this morning, that we have a chance for a bit more snow some time in the near future. I haven’t consulted the crocheted snowman who still sits atop my mantel, but if his kind of weather arrives once more, it’ll be okay. The coffee pot will be on, the friendship warm, and the conversation lively. Just my kind of day!
An Old Irish Blessing: May the hinges of our friendship never grow rusty.
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