The truth is, they’re not, the reason being…
I like to engage.
Engage in...participate or become involved…(engage with)… establish a meaningful contact or connection.
Partake, share, join and unite.
Interlock, fit together, commingle and mesh.
Yup, all the above apply to me. To sum it up, I love to put in my two cents, even with merely a smile that may ignite that exchange.
Dogs are great copilots since they’re born engagers.
Their main gift is doing it without words, tails wagging and head bunts the language they speak, dogese if you will.
Frankly, I’m someone who’s easily interested in events around her, that cub reporter I will always long to be.
To observe is an art…to not miss the colors or asides, the expressions nor the actions that build the recollection.
Am I just naturally nosy, or is it the writer in me trolling for a tale, anything to write about, but alas, does it matter why, as long as we can engage on the page…
writer and reader in a literary duet.
To have a hand in, spark, enlighten and entertain. Or better yet, evoke and provoke another’s imagination.
What could be better than that?
Did I tell you about the woman who pulled up in a vintage Rolls driven by another woman in old time livery? I watched her alight like an aging movie star, nodding to me as she entered the bank.
So inspired by her gust of glamour, at once went home to change, wishing I were at the Carlyle in 1931 when she first opened her majestic doors, wearing gloves and a cloche, gracing the bar that, if could only talk, the tales it could tell.