You long to feel safe. You long to be surprised. You have come to
understand that it is not possible to be simultaneously in both conditions. You step out on a path that is barely a path, perhaps no more than ripples at shoreline or tall broken grasses. You want to run back to safety, so you decide you will take the time to observe what lies directly ahead and no matter what you see, you’ll walk toward it.
First, there is a dead bush, rattling in the wind. Next, you see a silver glint which disappears, returns, disappears, returns. Then, tiny bones lie at the side of the trail that is barely a trail.
You know what to do. Give your exploration at least thirty minutes of writing. When you finish, take 200 words out of the piece. Please send us what emerges. Thank you. m
From Cin Norris: 06/26/17 Breakthrough Writing Prompt: Allies and hauntings never leave me…
2001 was a very good year; at least for beginnings and bombings, for sicknesses of the heart and mind, and for moving on and on and on. I tore my love into a thousand shining pieces and offered them to a country, a city, my love, and my lover and saved none for myself. Mistakes were made (oh god, were they made) but some of those heart-shards still illuminate with incandescence of varying wattage, alleviating-but never banishing- the shadows I made of myself.