Being Honest With Fiction

I want to see myself somewhere far from here, lost and found, and sitting in a little place with coffee and a small breakfast.I want to sit down facing the scene of a small town where people smile and say simple things like “hello,” or “good morning,” for no other reason than to be kind.I want to be at a place where common decency is still common. I want to be elsewhere, of course, and find myself like a familiar stranger. And this could be anywhere.But no.I would rather go back to my dreams of good old New Mexico . . .You . . . I want to experience the adventure of small town treasures and notice the way the desert sands line the side of long highways. I want to notice the desert with a sweet surrender that makes my heart think wildly about a dream I’ve had.You . . .I want to see you there like, say, waiting for me in something that gives more than just a “come hither,” appeal. I want to feel something that feels like the beginning again. I want this to wipe away the cobwebs of our…