The exercise:
Write about: restoration.
Showing posts with label Return Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Return Prompt. Show all posts
Monday August 1st, 2022
The exercise:
Write about: returning.
Made it back home last this afternoon. More or less unpacked. It's going to take a little while to get reacquainted with our things.
And tomorrow I'm back to the office for the first time in a month.
Monday September 14th, 2020
The exercise:
Write about: a return to light.
Lingering migraine. Hopefully be all the way gone tomorrow. Along with all this frickin' wildfire smoke that has come up from the States.
Sunday July 12th, 2020
The exercise:
Write about: returning.
Back to work tomorrow for the first time in four months. Let's see if I remember... anything.
Sunday January 12th, 2014
The exercise:
Write about: an early return.
All the snow that we'd had here in Osoyoos is gone now, though it lingers still in the hills surrounding us. There was a bit of rain yesterday, but the main culprit is the temperature: highs around 8 yesterday and today, threats of reaching double digits on the positive side of zero tomorrow.
I don't think spring is actually making an early return, as I'm sure winter has not given up on us quite yet. But I figured it's worth a prompt, at minimum.
Mine:
The leaves still clung to the trees lining Morris Avenue as I drove home that afternoon, their reds and yellows guiding me like torches in the depths of some medieval dungeon. Foot traffic was sparse on the sidewalks; I remember feeling grateful for that.
I kept my eyes on the road, avoiding at all costs the depressing images the rear view mirror reflected back to me with such glee. I'd almost torn it off an hour previously, but I decided that would only make matters worse.
Pulling into the driveway was unexpectedly painful. It felt like a weightlifter had closed a massive fist around my heart and was gradually squeezing the life out of me. I took a deep breath, then another, reminding myself that the world was not ending. New beginnings were already opening before me, I just couldn't see them yet.
Somehow I found myself standing at my front door. I don't remember getting out of my car, the short but windy walk past the rose garden clinging to the porch, the steps. None of that.
I found my key lurking in my coat pocket and briefly contemplated using it. Shaking my head, I decided knocking was the better option. Following through on that thought, I did so while bracing myself for what was sure to come next.
My parents were not going to be the least bit pleased to learn that I'd been expelled from college just one month into my freshman year.
Write about: an early return.
All the snow that we'd had here in Osoyoos is gone now, though it lingers still in the hills surrounding us. There was a bit of rain yesterday, but the main culprit is the temperature: highs around 8 yesterday and today, threats of reaching double digits on the positive side of zero tomorrow.
I don't think spring is actually making an early return, as I'm sure winter has not given up on us quite yet. But I figured it's worth a prompt, at minimum.
Mine:
The leaves still clung to the trees lining Morris Avenue as I drove home that afternoon, their reds and yellows guiding me like torches in the depths of some medieval dungeon. Foot traffic was sparse on the sidewalks; I remember feeling grateful for that.
I kept my eyes on the road, avoiding at all costs the depressing images the rear view mirror reflected back to me with such glee. I'd almost torn it off an hour previously, but I decided that would only make matters worse.
Pulling into the driveway was unexpectedly painful. It felt like a weightlifter had closed a massive fist around my heart and was gradually squeezing the life out of me. I took a deep breath, then another, reminding myself that the world was not ending. New beginnings were already opening before me, I just couldn't see them yet.
Somehow I found myself standing at my front door. I don't remember getting out of my car, the short but windy walk past the rose garden clinging to the porch, the steps. None of that.
I found my key lurking in my coat pocket and briefly contemplated using it. Shaking my head, I decided knocking was the better option. Following through on that thought, I did so while bracing myself for what was sure to come next.
My parents were not going to be the least bit pleased to learn that I'd been expelled from college just one month into my freshman year.
Thursday April 7th, 2011
The exercise:
Let's see what you can do with: returning.
Inspired by our visit to the accountant this afternoon, because we both will be getting a nice tax return this year. Kat is getting more, but I'm doing a fine job of pretending not to be jealous.
Mine:
After all these years,
You keep coming back;
But still you never
Bother to unpack.
You pass right on through,
Like a hungry ghost;
Always on the move,
A ship seeking coast.
Our words spark a flame,
Soon bridges are burned;
Then you're gone again,
With no lessons learned.
Monday February 15th, 2010
The exercise:
Back at work today after my little four day weekend. So our prompt shall be: the return.
Mine:
The house is dark, empty, and cold,
As though it has been sold.
But I know he's just running late,
So I still lie in wait.
Hunger is messing with my mind,
It's been years since I've dined!
But I will be strong, good, and true -
I have a job to do.
At last I hear a car door close
And my teeth are exposed.
The front door opens just a crack,
Now I launch my attack!
He hollers at me to get down,
While laughing like a clown!
Master's home! I can hardly breathe!
Now I can have my treat!
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