I pick up my glass of iced tea and swallow.
My hips twist as I sit in the chair, the one in front of the computer.
The computer where I’m typing the new chapter.
The new chapter where my character Gregory gets caught in a web of…
My head snaps up to the artwork hanging on the right hand wall of my home office. The wall that’s three feet away from me and my computer and my non-webbed writing.
The Holy Palace web – that’s what I need.
My eyes light on the twists and turns of the reds, yellows, purples, greens, blues, oranges of the Kabbalah design.
A genius drew this design. A spiritual genius who works in a tiny room down a narrow alley in a small Israeli village.
He’s famously unknown except by those who have been caught into his spiritual universal drawings of webbed, interconnecting colorful lines.
Lines that mesmerize the mind toward the inward, then the outward, as we all seek the idea of infinity.
Aha! Gregory is in a web of his own deceit. His secrets have dug him into a hole of discontent.
Now, he needs to open and rejoin the lines of friendship and loves, of truth and dare.
I thank the painting hanging on my writing wall, and I begin to click the keys on my keyboard.
My writing web is growing….