When we hear the name Charles Dickens, what does our mind conjure? First, we know him, simply, as "Dickens." To me, the aroma of childhood is evoked in the mantra of his name. His children have a tough and exhausting life. I can identify with them. My life was so connected and tedious, as a child, when I graduated high school, I was amazed there was still time ahead of me. It was like one door closed another one opened: one life ended and another began.

This is true to the Dickens' child. They walk through many rather sloppy situations. They struggle, they work, they beg, they negotiate, they are in danger. Then, when the difficult door closes, that other one opens: assured, resurrected, still a challenge, but more rosy, more clear, but still a bit difficult.

I don't have to start a blog (I hate that word. How about Illusionary Fog?) So why bother, why not just take a nap and read another book? Because I feel driven, like any writer, to share my experience, to pass on some knowledge, to read some responses. There seem to be doors everywhere. Tee.