I awakened to find the great cleansing had begun. Mountains of the unfamiliar surrounded me. Frightened animals too, complaining in their anxiety. How long had I slept? I heard labored coughing nearby, erased by the screeching of an alien machine. My heart raced. It had come exactly as foretold.

Spring cleaning.

I don’t understand it myself.  Midlife crisis perhaps?

Here I sit, a family man in my early fifties, follower of Christ, happily married to an amazing woman, with two incredible teenage sons, successful in my career as a data scientist at a major U.S. corporation, and comfortable by middle-class standards.  Yet I am restless, plagued by a je ne sais quoi that eludes me.

About a year ago, my pastor and friend Nathan James Norman opened a flash fiction writing contest over at The Untold Podcast.  On a whim I decided to enter, and although I didn’t make the shortlist, some creative power slowly awakened like a muscle atrophied from disuse and straining to flex.

“I’m a numbers guy!  I’m not the creative type!” I have told myself countless times.  Upon introspection, however, I admit that I have always been attracted to epic fantasy and sci-fi genres.  I know way more about Star Trek than is healthy.  I’m still dismayed that ABC cancelled Legend of the Seeker, a decently good adaptation of the Sword of Truth novels by Terry Goodkind, after only two seasons.

So here I am, believing that I am called to find some creative outlet for my strange talent.