By Sweta Srivastava Vikram
It’s been raining nonstop in NYC as I write this essay. I am a sunshine-loving woman and the relentless downpour (We have had a wet week) dries up my creative juices. It makes me unnecessarily mellow and puts out my creative fire. I like being able to go for a walk in the woods or stroll in the park close to home to tap into my inner voice and connect with the stories that matter.
Denial: Being homebound these past few days, I said to my husband, “You sure we weren’t transported to London one night while we were asleep?” Nothing seems strange or impossible in 2020. Because I remember autumn as a crisp and bright season in NYC, not grey and wet like the weather across the pond that our London friends and family complain about. Imagine what winter will be like?
Acceptance:Once I…
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