It’s me again. I didn’t fall off the face of the Earth. I fell in a parking lot minefield in Florida.
Since January 11 when I tripped, fell, and broke my hip, writing has been difficult. I’ve been held hostage to pain with no tolerable pain killer able to ransom me. When I say tolerable pain killer, that means any pain killer that could reduce my pain without turning me into a zoned out zombie barely able to keep my eyes open, remain conscious, or form a coherent thought–much less write a coherent sentence.