I love to talk. I want to share my ideas and hear yours. I speak the truth but sometimes I like to turn it to fiction, embellishing it to make it more interesting , just like adding a variety of textures to a collage. Ears aren’t always there when the thoughts fill me and need to flow like soap bubbles blown from a wand. That’s the beauty of writing. It waits patiently to be heard, while I can start on my next conversation. The words swirl, creating pictures, interpreted personally, as are the images captured by a camera lens of etched with a paintbrush.
You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.
Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.
Here’s my attempt at using only 50 words to (hopefully) tell a story. This is a huge challenge for me as I always seem to be excessive in my word usage. Oh and it’s not a message on a path but a scene played out in a café.
He: “Should’ve known rushing off without leaving her number meant a no show.”
She: “Hello, I know it’s odd but I’m meeting a man, Ted, at your café and I’ve no way to contact him. I’m late but am almost there.”
I wrote her message …but his table was empty.
Writing 101: A Room with a View (or Just a View)
Today, choose a place to which you’d like to be transported if you could — and tell us the backstory. How does this specific location affect you? Is it somewhere you’ve been, luring you with the power of nostalgia, or a place you’re aching to explore for the first time?
Today’s twist: organize your post around the description of a setting.
If I could be transported to any place right now, I’d take that journey to the white house with the gables and the picket fence. This is how my mum used to describe our family home to taxi drivers that would bring my mum, nanna and 2 sisters home from many a shopping trip. There was always much pride about her home. This house was built of wood that my mum told me was log cabin design. My parents built this house before I was born. When the days of aluminium cladding of homes in Sydney began to trend my mother would get very angry at salesman that wanted to cover up that beautiful timber. I know eventually my dad won out and those magnificent gables were clad in aluminium. My dad didn’t like getting up on a very tall ladder to paint the wood. I never said anything to my mum but I didn’t actually see a Iot of difference in the aluminium to the wood. We grew from kids to adults. It was a place for carefree times- a cubby house (big enough to rent out to tenants we laughed about as we got older). Cats came and left families of kittens under the cubby – always a source of fun – until they would be taken away to ‘a party for cats’ never to return. I remember well the afternoon my dad installed a mini Putt Putt style golf course for us using empty plastic flower pots as the holes…and remember Mum’s face displaying much less happiness than ours when she saw her flower beds somewhat disturbed. Then came the swimming pool!! We also had a small hill – like dome in the centre of our block which was fun to ride scooters over. Buried beneath this was my dad’s first car that he refused to part with. Metal occasionally made its way to the surface of the dome. We also had his second car parked in the yard, rusted and draped at times with choko vines. Colour tv came to this house long before it came to others. This brought with it a lot of new ‘friends’ and visits from family as we shared this gem. Dad always loved up to the minute electronic devices. Food was a source of nourishment used for celebration, commiseration and of course family meals around the table. So many happy memories – my strong family bond was cemented at in that home.
And so it was …my family home…now the home of another family. Time moves us, shapes us, gives us depth of character and in our case seeded a family bond that lasts beyond time.