Hello, Word Artists and Admirers! I adore the simple pleasure of a nice, hot shower. My husband probably would say that hot is an understatement (he's compared my preferred temperature to that of fires of Mordor).
All I need is a rubber duck
Recently I was on a business trip. Part of the group activities included getting into a tub filled with ice water. Perhaps I would have been less willing to try it if it wasn't outside under the blazing Texas sun. I definitely didn't expect to manage it well enough to last 90 seconds and be curious enough to try it again, if the opportunity presents itself.
So for today's optional prompt, I'd like you to write about a time you surprised yourself. I'm taking poetry and prose, fiction and non-fiction. Just be sure to keep your pieces to 369 words or fewer, and one piece per person, please.
Next week, we'll ask you to be inspired by the following wordsfrom T. S. Eliot’s poem, Ash Wednesday:
From the wide window towards the granite shore The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying Unbroken wings
A couple
of weeks ago, an old friend invited me to The Tulip Dig, an event that involves
a bunch of New Yorkers digging up tulip bulbs from certain areas in Park
Avenue. I declined—the stitches from my last surgeries were still fresh (and angry). Also,
playing in dirt (fertilized with
manure) is not the most intelligent of activities when one’s immune
system is not 100% reliable (um…
probably, not even 85%). Anyway, last week, a mutual friend of
the “old friend” called me to ask about my depression, since they were told
that “she (meaning moi) no longer enjoys the things she used to love doing. And everybody knows what that means.”
I’m
not depressed (thank goodness). But after
surgeries, chemotherapy, radiation, and more surgeries… my flesh and bones and immune
system and I have never been quite the same. I’ve had to make a lot of changes,
be selective about my priorities, and find fun replacements for many of the things
I used to love (which my body and energy levels no longer accommodate well). I’m sure I’m not alone in this. Time,
circumstances, location… and all sorts of things force us to change how we approach
life and living. Right?
With that
thought in mind, my dear poets and storytellers, for today’s optional prompt,
I invite you to find inspiration in the idea of letting go of something that
used to be wonderful, which no longer fits in your life.
Add
the direct link to your response to Mister Linky. One post per participant, please. 369 words maximum. Share old or new pieces of poetry or
prose, write to the prompt or to a topic of your choosing. Visit other contributors. Comment on their offerings.
next week,
We shall invite to write about a time you surprised yourself.
