Danny Wells

For most of my life I worked, like most of us, for someone else. It put a roof over my family’s head and food on the table. In the early eighties, I wrote a story and promptly tossed it in a drawer. I didn’t forget about it. I just didn’t pursue it. I didn’t need to write stories down. I enjoyed writing them in my head and once finished, abandoned them for the next whimsy that caught my imagination. Upon retirement, I found I needed more than daydreams to fill my days so I dug up that old story, rewrote it, and let several people read it. Happily, they liked it. Now I spend my days trying to create daydreams for others.