Fortune Cookies

The other day, driving home from a day trip out of town, I realized the bed of the white truck several car lengths ahead had lost one of its clear plastic bags filled with something the color of bread. It probably was bread. But it made a lovely pop when I drove over it, and the pieces that burst from inside looked like giant pieces of fortune cookies.

Today I started a new job in a new shirt and new shoes. And when I got there my new boss had a welcome card for me and a sweet little plant called a Money Tree. When she opened a supply cabinet and revealed shiny new ink pens in Tiffany blue, I knew it was a sign. (Tiffany is my signature color.)

Besides this, I will within a couple of weeks have a real live book in the world. And once I don't feel quite this tired, I plan to dig in to another, with all the joy of escaping just for a little while into a story.

I can still see those fortune cookies (that really probably weren't) flying around my car as I drove through them. And, yeah, life feels kind of like that.