I link up with Lisa-Jo on Fridays for a writing flash mob…throwing caution to the wind and gathering to share what a few minutes of free writing can buy.
Today’s topic: STORY
I have it memorized and can call it forth at any given moment.
There once was a girl, and she felt pretty average and fairly inadequate in all she did.
And she would start new things and quit before she ever finished.
And she would shrink back and try to blend in and hide.
And she never quite believed she was anything special, though she wanted to be in the worst way.
So she lived life in the quiet and in the fear and teetered on the edge of What Could Be.
Oftentimes the story sometimes stays on repeat at the front of my brain and filters everything I say or do or taste or feel.
But sometimes it is way in the back of my brain, until one day I remember it’s there and then it moves itself to the front for a while again.
And we do this dance, me and this story, and sometimes I lead and sometimes it does, but usually it ends with me shrinking back and hiding.
Living in fear is exhausting.
The story is not a classic anymore. It’s not a fun vintage one with a golden spine and whimsical illustrations that make me smile.
Instead it’s just old and tattered. The pages are ripped and the cover is torn.
It’s time to throw it away.
There’s a new story waiting to be opened.