Wardens

I write stories about people who, with hesitation or gusto, call themselves ‘Wardens:’ people who protect people from people.
                                                   My inability to write anything but
                                                         autobiography is an endless source
                                                              of disturbance and amusement.

A while ago, I asked, “what drives you?” I tried to answer.

I protect. I don’t always know how to do it but I try, or at least worry about it. I mean well. Mile-wide parental streak you see.

I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Ever. I want to wrap the world up in a blanket where it can be warm and cushioned and then I will put it somewhere safe and keep an eye on it.

This is what underlies the frustration. Here are the stable roots. The tree only responds to what’s above the ground. The tree can be cut. The roots will form and has formed shoots, sprout elsewhere