Black holes, Brains and Knowing Strangers

 I belong to a small writing group and trust me, it’s a feisty bunch —truly a gathering of wonderous gray, or pink (depending on the age) matter. Each one of them brings their own special twang to the gathering.

I feel a closeness with these special ladies even though we’ve never met face to face. Something feels inherently unique about having online pen pals, or is that online keypad pals?

Knowing them via email lets me know them like I’d know one of my character creations. Their personalities, for me, are created from the feelings that rise up between their words. I get a sense of them born from what I know and can relate to. You might say they come from the black holes in my mind. And I wonder, should we meet, flesh to flesh, would my writing buddies live up to the rich characters I’ve created for them, or would those inky ladies come across as Flat Stanleys? Or would meeting them be like running into an old friend at the grocery store?

Time will tell, and if any of us ever manage to slip across the border in the dead of night, maybe, just maybe, we’ll find out.

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