M: Hello all, I'm back!

Today was the last day of an incredibly tough couple weeks. First, there was the whole coming out and being rejected part, and then the preparation for the oral exams that I had today. On a Saturday for crying out loud!

But no matter, that's all passed now. What does matter is that I now have far more time for writing and that I'm starting a new story.

When some friends and I went to get ice-cream last week, there was this group sitting on the terrasse in front of us, and something about them just spoke to me. So I decided to write a story about it. This story's chapters will be smaller, around 1k words each, and it will only be three or four chapters.

I am going to continue my other stories, but I just wanted to do something with this inspiration.



And here they were. Mary, John, Lily, and their dog Knight. They were all around their fifties, except for John. He was nearing the sixty. They were sitting around a round table, Mary across from John, Knight on Mary's left and Lily on her right. They were each eating an ice-cream cone, except for the dog that is. They were talking about anything, from the nice weather to the people sitting behind them. They'd talk about anything not too serious, even though they had plenty to talk about. Each of them had been through so much like you wouldn't believe. On a global scale, it was irrelevant, but their teenage years were not easy. Both women lived in youth care facilities since before they were ten years old, like so many. But this was different. Sure, no soul in youth care is trouble free, but these two overdid it. The things that happened, the lies they had to tell, the secrets they had to keep, it scarred them forever. Most of their problems came after their eighteenth birthday, after they left youth care and when they were married. John's, however, did not. Mary's troubles came when she was 32, Lily's came at 28. The truth, however, is that their lives were fucked up before they ever even heard of youth care. The dog was the one soul not troubled at that table, although he was picking up on the humans' mood. But this story isn't about the dog, it's about the humans and their traumas going through life. It's a miracle they ended up alright.

It would've taken just one choice made differently, and they would never have met. But all three were happy their lives turned out this way. If they would do it all over again, knowing the results, would they make the same decisions? Or would they want their lives to be different?