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Starbucks Writing Retreat, Rancho Palos Verdes, CA
I carry my Misto grande (half coffee, half steamed milk, 5 honey packets) to the outside area and set it on the ledge of a fire pit, overlooking the ocean gleaming pure white at the horizon. I am about to do research, re-writing, and editing on an article, and have set aside this day where no one will disturb me.
I have chosen to write on a light subject, closing greetings — salutations — for emails, when I usually write about subjects that grab the guts — guilt, shame, sexual assault, separated children of asylum seekers — subjects I (and I believe others) need to learn about. But it’s been a serious week of impeachment hearings, and I am in serious denial about news that there will be some cowboys in space — not exactly there to plan strategies for planetary peace. I open my laptop.
The writer is interrupted
A tall woman with blonde hair, wrapped in a puffy jacket and pink scarf approaches.
