I have struggled to write this post for weeks, rather months, okay, since January 20, 2017. Like many sane people, I have difficulty processing much of what has happened in the past 12 months, kind of like processing being hit by a mack truck and dragged for a mile caught in its undercarriage as an afterthought.
I love stories (I'm a writer, part of the job), audio fiction in particular. While I appreciate radio dramas and podcast plays, I have a particular fondness for audio productions of written work. There is a certain comfort in hearing "Once upon a time..." and "He said" and "She gripped the fighter's" that never fails to capture my imagination. Podcasts are shorter than audio books (another love of mine), and are the perfect bite-sized chunk of fiction to fill an afternoon of errands or housework, or the stillness of bedtime.