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What If?
This is a game I know very well. It’s not so bad these days, but when I was younger, it could do terrible damage to the serenity of my days.
What if I never write a book? What if Dennis doesn’t love me anymore? What if I die? What if I don’t get a raise?
You name it, and there would be a “what if?” associated with it.
I’m reading a book right now by Rachel Griffiths called Summer Days on Sunflower Street. It’s the second book in a series of 18. I got the first one for free from Amazon via Weberbooks.com and liked it so much I decided to get the next one in the series. Each of the books, at least the first two, appears to be a stand-alone book. I’m liking them because they are British, cozy, and heartwarming. There are no murders or crimes, and it’s just what I was in the mood to read.
The reason I’m writing this piece right now is that one of the characters just voiced her fear, “What if?” Of course, you, as the reader, know this is groundless because you’ve seen what is going on with her husband and now with her best friend and her parents. There is just something that is off. She has sensed it and is now going nuts, unsure of what is happening.
But as I read those words in the story just now, all my bells and whistles went off at once, and I remembered in my own life all the what-ifs I experienced.
