The exercise:
Write about: taking turns.
Hot water tank is in. Our turn next.
Showing posts with label Turning Point Prompt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Turning Point Prompt. Show all posts
Monday December 31st, 2012
The exercise:
Let us usher 2012 out the door by writing about: the turning point.
Here's hoping that 2013 is a great year for all of us, and that many of our writing dreams come to fruition before it is time, once again, to place new calendars on our walls.
Mine:
It is... difficult for me to pinpoint the moment you speak of. That precise instant that I stood safely beyond doubt's grasp and knew that there was no turning back. Forward, forward, from then on... there could be only forward.
Had I recognized that line as I crossed it, would I have paused to look back? One last survey of all that my next step would leave behind? Would I have wavered, wondered, wished for more time?
Would I have gone back?
It is... so very difficult for me to say. Who can imagine what thoughts would have filled my mind, what emotions swelled my breast? It is possible that fear my have even entered the equation. Unlikely... but possible.
It matters not, though. That line was as invisible to me then as my mother's ghost is to you now. And the road ahead calls for my attention, with questions of its own. Interesting questions. Confounding questions.
And, yes, some very... difficult questions.
Let us usher 2012 out the door by writing about: the turning point.
Here's hoping that 2013 is a great year for all of us, and that many of our writing dreams come to fruition before it is time, once again, to place new calendars on our walls.
Mine:
It is... difficult for me to pinpoint the moment you speak of. That precise instant that I stood safely beyond doubt's grasp and knew that there was no turning back. Forward, forward, from then on... there could be only forward.
Had I recognized that line as I crossed it, would I have paused to look back? One last survey of all that my next step would leave behind? Would I have wavered, wondered, wished for more time?
Would I have gone back?
It is... so very difficult for me to say. Who can imagine what thoughts would have filled my mind, what emotions swelled my breast? It is possible that fear my have even entered the equation. Unlikely... but possible.
It matters not, though. That line was as invisible to me then as my mother's ghost is to you now. And the road ahead calls for my attention, with questions of its own. Interesting questions. Confounding questions.
And, yes, some very... difficult questions.
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