Silence stood in the door way like a dare. She stood and waited, not knowing what to do next. Her indecision would cost her dearly.

Silence stood in the door way like a dare. She stood and waited, not knowing what to do next. Her indecision would cost her dearly.

Deep night approached, walking in crooked lines down the street. She was tempted to leave, to join the wandering line. To follow.

Instead, Ren sat still, listening through the window. Waiting for the call. The whisper she’d been waiting for.

Instead, Ren sat still, listening through the window. Waiting for the call. The whisper she’d been waiting for.

Deep night approached, walking in crooked lines down the street. She was tempted to leave, to join the wandering line. To follow.

This afternoon, someone posted a very interesting list on the Diving Deeper workshop board: “10 reasons why I write”. I have no idea where the list emerged from, and it doesn’t matter. The concept of the list made me think about the reasons why I write. I don’t know that I have ever outright questions why I write, let alone made a list. I wasn’t sure that I could come up with just 10 but I did….

10 reasons why I write:

because…

1. I must. If you have never been woken up at 3 am by a poem or story demanding to be written, it might be hard to understand. I have. I know better than to ignore.

2. I want to remember.

3. The monkeys are busy.

4. Idle hands…

5. I can’t juggle

6. One day maybe I won’t have a story to tell. I write now because I do.

7. Writing is like throwing a stone into a still pond, and I never know where the ripples will touch.

8. I am in love with how a brand new notebook feels in my hands

9. I have no wings – writing is as close to flying as I can get

10. …..sometimes all there is left to do is just write.

~

Shh… you are being too loud Alone. Sitting there, hiding in the corner, waiting to be noticed, waiting to be loved, waiting to be welcomed. I know you can see me across the room. I am the one laughing, surrounded by the longer, more sour faces. I am waiting too. I am waiting for you. I am going to keep poking you will my funny stick – to show you that you are not as alone as you think you are. It only feels that way because Scared and Chagrined have corned you, built a kind of wall that keeps you from seeing me. I am jumping like an excited little puppy, up and down, up and down, up and down – my ears are flying and I know you can just see my smiling face over the top.

Come on sweetie, lets go. I want to guerrilla knit a furry pink sweater for a giant elephant. I want to run with you through the sand into the ice cold blue water of the lake. I want to lie in the tall grasses in the field with you and laugh at the Zombie tree.

What do you say? Don’t be vexed. Be silly, like me. Be Inspired. I know that we can go far together, you and I. Let’s go!
~

new assignment – write the first paragraph of a novel. 20 minutes of writing whatever comes up.
~

Neva rushed to catch the door of the apartment building before it swung shut and left her locked out in the street. She shivered as she shook off the slush and snow that had piled quickly onto her shoulders and hair. It was a two minute walk from the subway, but the winter was fierce this year. It was snowing furiously outside, and she was glad to not be out in it any longer. She bent down to adjust her knee-high leather boots and turned her head to look down the hallway to the elevator. The band of golden light was moving to a thin sliver.

“Shit” Neva said out loud. “Hold the door!” She called out and hurried down the tiled marble floor. Her heel s clacked and clicked, echoing against the bare walls. The elevator door continued to close, uninterrupted until the last possible moment, when a gloved hand suddenly shot out to keep it from closing completely. The door relented and slid back open with barely a whisper of protest. Neva rushed in, consumed by the gold interior light.

“Thanks” she said. She was breathless, and leaned back against the wall. Snowflakes melted against her skin. Neva touched her face absently. She glanced out into the empty hallway before the elevator door closed and then turned to see who it was that held the door for her. Her flirty smile froze on her lips, and the colour drained from her cheeks. The last thing she saw was the flash of white light, then the elevator was plunged into darkness.
~

There was a sharp knock on the door. Monica ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Steve asked. Monica refused to look up.

There was a sharp knock on the door. Monica ignored it.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Steve asked. Monica refused to look up.

‘I told you never, ever bring it up again’ he said,slamming his hand on the table. Jack watched his brother. The truth hung in between them.

‘I swear, I don’t want to hear another word about it from you.’ Danny shouted. Jack walked started to walk away. “Brothers stick together”Jack did not turn around when Danny yelled his name. One more day, and he would not have to hold his brother up. One more day and he’d fall. Fall like a stone in a river, flowing so fast that there’s no time to rest in the mud on the bottom. Then the truth will come out.