The Author Is Here

December 28, 2011

“The author is here.  The author is here.”  Someone shouted in the crowd.  I carefully drove my electric wheelchair, trying to not run over people’s feet.  I was in a daze.  I drove past the polished white hearse that had my nonverbal friend in it.  I drove past the gathering into my deceased friend’s mother’s arms.

“The author is here,” a person yelled  again.  I kept looking for an author to appear.  At  times I don’t feel like an author.

“Thank you for coming, Steve.  It means a lot to me.  Are you published again?”

“No.  I am working on it.'”

She hugged me crying.  Another person asks me if I wanted to walk like my friend did.

“No.  I am just a writer.”

All that I wanted to do was to go home to email my friends.  My best friend, Amber replied to me “you have a lot to live for.”

 

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