I stepped out of the shower Thursday and slipped on the tile floor. I fell back and against the toilet so hard the back of it slammed into the wall behind it, and the water tank cracked open, spilling water across the bathroom.
For a moment, I didn't realize what happened but I thought I'd been hurt badly. When I heard the rushing sound, I thought "Oh, shit, is that the sound your soul makes when it leaves the body! Poor Patricia is going to find me dead on the floor!" Then I felt the water rushing past me and realized what had happened. I crawled on my hands and knees and turned the water valve off, and then threw all the towels - and my robe - on the floor to absorb the water.
Thanks to the toilet taking the force of the fall. I came out okay. If I were older, I probably would have broken my hip.
The good news on the fiction front is that I finished and emailed off my latest collection. At about 90,000 words, with 28 stories and introductions, "The Clock Struck None" alternate and secret history reprint collection is off to Ian Strock at Fantastic Books.
The photo is a set-up that caught my eye on my bookshelf. I just had to move the old mechanical alarm clock slightly to pose it in front of my two previous collections. I thought it was a nice tableau to celebrate the completion of the collection.
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