I rescued a baby skunk from certain death yesterday. He was limping as quickly as his injured leg would allow him to motor through the parking lot. He was headed for the even busier road when I got to him with a shopping basket. Poor little guy was terrified out of his wits by the time I reached him. He didn't try to spray me. He did hiss and cower. By the time the Humane Society came to pick him up for even more certain death(at least he wouldn't suffer from his injuries or die beneath the wheels of any one of the half-dozen cars I stopped in their tracks), I had repeatedly answered the question of why I don't work with wildlife for a living. For one thing, I don't have my rehab license. I also don't have the time or money required to take on rehab full time. I've done it for other people and know beyond all doubt that it's a 24-7, no vacation heartbreak.
Rather than get into all the whys and wherefores of wildlife rehab, and the fate of one little creature I crossed paths with for twenty minutes on a rainy, cold Sunday, I started thinking about how I could change the world. What could I do to ease the pain and suffering out there? Cyclones, earthquakes, tsunamis; they're on the news every day killing people for weeks and even months after the initial hit.
Nea creates those things. She does it for a multitudes of reasons, not the least of which is she's a demon. Thinking about all the real life tragedy those natural disasters cause left a really bad taste in my mouth about Nea.
Even if her tornadoes don't kill people they are still devastating. And that's her whole purpose. To make other people as miserable as she is. I understand why Nea does those horrible things but don't know if I can continue to write about them.
In the last blog, I was researching how to set a stand of trees on fire in front of witnesses. That same night, someone did that very thing at the end of my street behind my friend's house. We took the dogs for a run along there two nights later and were sickened by the huge swatch of land, and habitats, destroyed by arson.
I spent a good chunk of last night and this morning trying to reconcile fiction with reality. I have to tell you that at this moment in time, I haven't been able to do it. I don't want to write about deliberately causing a fire after seeing its destruction firsthand. The acrid smell still lingers in my nostrils.
I think about that little skunk and how we built parking lots, shopping malls and busy roads around his habitat. He literally had no where to go yesterday. He was surrounded by concrete and cars without a safe haven in sight. Not much different from the effect of Nea's actions.
I'm switching the blog to Sunday posts only for the next little while. Yes I'm a day late. Yesterday was full. I might post more often if my brain gets back into writing mode. If I can justify Nea's behaviour in such a way that The Reader believes it. And cheers when she's redeemed at the end.
I've started organizing the office today. Maybe once it's done, I'll be able to get back to work. And write my way through this conundrum.