data analyst in New Jersey
The sun sets peacefully in the west, an amber streak of light shines on a single shape in the corner of the room. Canon in D minor drifts softly through air, riding upon a soft fall breeze as the aroma of vanilla dances off a flickering candle. Enveloped in an Saint Peter's College sweater, Fanny pens her dreams onto blank pages of a cotton-bound journal. Aside her sits a computer in sleep mode, an iphone on vibrate and a tablet on Spotify. Technology surrounding her, she grips her pen tighter and lets her words flow, knowing well that her true muse lies within the pages of a book. She looks up, begins to speak, and follows the words as they appear on the screen in front of her. She is more than just a writer; she is a creator of worlds, a developer of story lines, an optimistic guardian that leads others to their destinies. A mother of twins, a dedicated and loving wife, a dependable employee and a trusting friend. The road she travels, has long since turned to dirt, her past distant shadows of her memories. Her canteen dry and her legs sore, she watches as the path ahead of her bursts into a multitude of arrows. With nothing but faith in her pocket, she exhales deeply and walks towards the forks. Her family relies on her to make the right choice, her professional home scolds and scowls, but she presses forward, unaware of the consequences but ready to take the step.