What to do with all the rants? Where to put them? The vast collection of short little bits from all the writing years–like scarves acquired from too many garage sales. What do I need them for? The years ahead are far fewer than the years behind. Not to mention there is no more room on the page.
When I am finished with this little experiment, I will hit Don’t Save. I will watch the screen go blank, and imagine all those spilled words like water colors left out in the rain, sand paintings in the wind, invisible forces of the creative spirit come forth then dissolve.
In the end I hit Save. I don’t know why, but what if this creative force is all we have to save us from extinction.