Day 47: March 24
A depleting ache consumes her entire body. Joined by a soft throbbing at the front of her skull, she knows that she needs to sleep. It is the same sensation when she’s half-awake and knows she’s not ready to wake up. But now she is awake and alert — but aching as if she still needs hoards of sleep. Worse, it began after she had collapsed from exhaustion last night (well, earlier this morning). Deeply asleep, but unfortunately, as usual, she had to put her book away, turn the light off…and after she had: head on the pillow, mind alert, head aching. And here she is in the morning.
Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you.
Day 43: March 22 (written)
Hunger rumbles in her belly, a quiet grumbling beast. It awakes every day and must be tended to every few hours if she does not wish to feel sick, withered by headaches and dizziness. For it is easy to forget, and even easier to feel underwhelmed by feeding the hunger-beast. Tedious and time-consuming and never-ending. A few treats, certainly. But it, like every part of her body, is, for the living moment, a never-ending parade of organic needs and renewal.
Last month, inspired by the-cassandra-project and their Every Day Challenge, I wrote every day to raise money for the Urban Justice Center. You can still donate here or please spread the word. I assume, since I set it up, that it’s still available if you want to. Thank you. 😊
Day 39: March 11
Flowers flare like fire, ignited inspiration and potential; many objectives suddenly bloom, busy and bustling as bees. But the fire, in a short while, dwindles until there is only a flickering ember. Of the many inspired flares, perhaps one survives. And the others fade from memory, a repetitive scars of scorched earth building over and over atop one another, on and on and on…
Day 38: March 9 (written)
Is this really what you want? she whispers to herself.
A gloomy haze of uncertainty twines around her throat, tightening with persistent relish. Flecks of color, some dim as smoke and others as bright as the flashes of a dewdrop under the sun, drift across her vision. Dreams and hopes. Ambitions and goals. What she might have, what she could have, what she wishes to have. What she wants to do.
Day 36: March 9 (written)
“How will you get to where you’re going?”
The words’ echo shivers down her spine. Her voice hitches up; she cannot answer for she does not know. Life unfurls before her, a road with too many turns to see beyond, and though she may know the destination she wishes to take, the twists and choices she needs to make evade her. Which step to take? Which choice to pick? Which way to turn?
Her heart sinks a little deeper into her chest, sending a shiver over her shoulders.
Worse, what if she cannot choose because there is more than one choice she wishes to make? What if she wants to chase the scent of blooming honeysuckle – airy, dainty, sweet – and the scent of deep water – moist, musky, earthy – at the same time? What if she wants to do many things at once? How does she choose what turn to take, if she has more than one goal?
Day 35: March 9 (written)
Words wriggle past, gray and striving things. Like eyeless larvae, they wriggle about aimlessly, searching, hunting, for the nutritious scent that will make them grow. Make them into something that is more alive.
Day 34: March 8
She huddles under the blankets. What is she looking for? A memory of utter happiness dances at the back of her mind. Sunshine sweet and soul cleansing, it somehow invests purpose and wraps her perfection. This is the way it should be. And it has always been there. But she has never know. Not til now…