More on the Modular

For some reason, the feeling behind this modular story has changed. I'm happy with the change, and attribute it to church this morning. I went to the eight am service so I could get stuff done, and there aren't many people there that early. Mostly older folks. Very quiet service. No kiddies. No ants in pants. No pee pee tinglies. If you're confused, go read the archives. There's a post in there about an adorable little boy who came up to me to reveal that he was playing with himself. His mother was appalled. I found it to be hilarious.

In any case, the story has changed. So far, there is no cat. There might not be a cat. It would be pushing the funny envelope. What there is, on the other hand, is a slight change in relationships.

Cynthia is now just another loony in my circus. She's the main loony, and all the others are still in relation to her, but she's nicer now. Sort of.

The ex, named Paul, is a computer guy in Maine, and he has tracked her down to send lipstick-smeared love letters to her in the regional office at Colorado. Sound like anything we know, my family?

The daughter, named Sam, is still crazy, but in an understated kind of way. Her father dotes on her, but really likes Cynthia. They meet up in the hospital, after Sam has jumped off the roof to get attention.

Cynthia's mother is no longer reflecting on her daughter's horrid life. Now, the mailman she's having an affair with keeps her updated on the letters from Paul, and she's busy worrying about things. She'll be a distracted little nut case. The mailman will spend his days wondering if Cynthia is still with Paul, or if Paul is just a freak.

Actually, the morbid part has evaporated. I can't find much darkness in here anymore. And there's no rain. There is always rain in my writing. Maybe I'm growing. I hope so. This will be the first piece that hasn't got morbidity in it. Now it's just understated, lighthearted insanity. Again, I'm shooting for humor.

I'll keep you posted.

End.