Most of you surely noticed that The Colors Magazine has not been updated for quite a while. Some even have asked questions. A few people asked me to come back. I was hesitant at first. Don’t take me wrong. I love this place, and I love writing. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy, sometimes sentimental, almost always happy. When I don’t write I miss it. I miss this feeling of being able to create worlds, to move obstacles, to build bridges. Someone once told me, if you can write something that moves people, that touches their souls, then it would be a crime, not to write.

“You don’t even like him!” Cathy screamed when she was leaving my room. Which is not strictly true. At least the fact that she was leaving my room. She was rather storming out of it. And she slammed the door in my face. Not that I minded, though. I mean, she was right, wasn’t she? I didn’t even like him. Really. I mean it – cross my heart!

Alice blinked away a deceitful tear and closed her laptop.
An e-mail. Just an e-mail.
She curled up in her bed.
Breathe in. Breathe out. In. Out. In. Out.
It can’t be true, she thought.
But it was. She opened the laptop. Read again.
“…liked your manuscript… ready to discuss…”
It was real. She smiled.