Winter has receded and Spring has yet to arrive. You are in that middle ground of no seasons. If you could will it, you'd invent something new, something temporary, something that would last for a day or two in only this single year and then become little more than memory for next year, when an entirely new season would emerge from the in-between spaces of the seasons. You wonder what others would invent, if they had the power, too. Soon, perhaps, the time would be ripe for such invention.\n\n[[Soon]]...

Snowflakes greet you this morning, as you sip coffee by the window, wondering what the day will bring. Surely, whatever it is, can wait. For now, there is nothing calmer than to know that there is a silent symphony out there, snowflakes making melodies, and if you were to open your door to open your ears, you would disrupt the music in motion. Better to wait and listen with imagination. Later, you can go. Or maybe even sooner than you think.\n\n[[Soon]] ...

Soon, your words will be more than slanted scribbles on the pages. Soon, your images will be more than flashes of your eyes. Soon, your media will be more than a message.\n\nSoon ...

And so it begins ... a conversation with many paths leading off into the days ahead. One road takes you one place. Another takes you to another place. A third road ... shifts you into the unknown. All roads diverge and then converge, as stories are apt to do from time to time.\nWhich way will you go?\n\n[[Path One]]\n[[Path Two]]\n[[Path Three]]

By Kevin

Soon

This is the familiar road. The trees are changing colors with Autumn's fresh winds and cold nights. But the sun is still shining. You pick up the leaves in your fingers, to hear the crinkle of time taking its leave. Winter is on the horizon. But not yet. Not yet.\n\n[[Soon]] ...