What?! would be a legit reaction to the title; it’s for a weekend challenge for Trifecta to write about fear(s).
My daughter could still hug me
I could lean into her
Hold her head with my neck
But I couldn’t
Without someone else’s arms.
This was a fun challenge with way too many possibilities, which for me would include at least the following fears:
Anything tragic or really evil happening to my daughter.
Any “5 years or less remaining” terminal diagnosis for me before, say, age 90.
Dating a boring or stupid woman who was otherwise really nice.
Or Alzheimer’s or depression or war or the breakdown of society.
Finding out that I am truly talentless after all.
That last one led me to write this: it’s a metaphor, I suppose, for whatever ability I have with the pen. I can intrigue folks sometimes, definitely shock them at times, make them laugh at times, but it’s tough to know which direction to go at times. Whether to have a character be truly evil, truly noble, or for them to see the whimsical in everything, and be actually funny, which must shock a little I think, without being too vulgar. It’s like trying to open 3 doors at once, to get out of a room. It doesn’t work all that well, does it?