“Write about a piece of jewelry you own. Where did it come from? When do you wear it?”
This one isn’t too tough, but only because I have never really owned that much jewelry. Growing up in a strictly religious home helped me in that regard, as both my mother and my sister had minimal jewelry (if any at all). It was all about the “temple of God,” or what you had on the inside, that was supposed to really count. Which was why it was funny that, despite this directive, we were decked out to the 9’s every Saturday at church service. Quite funny.
Anyway, as I’ve gotten older I’ve felt the need for a little outward adornment. At various points in my life I’ve had a couple necklaces (I guess guys should call them “chains,” but they really weren’t), a couple bracelets (one of them was a faux Livestrong one that left a green ring around my wrist), and a few rings, for good measure. While the necklaces, and the bracelets, are pretty much long gone, festooned on the island of my history, I do still have two rings.
Sorry, Golem, not just one precious.
But yes, really, only the latest ring is precious to me. Continue reading “300 Writing Prompts: #148”
“What keeps you from getting a good night’s sleep?”
When I was a kid I slept like a rock. It didn’t matter the circumstances, what noise was or wasn’t in the house, I never had to count wayward sheep in order to nod off or to stay asleep all night. No wonder I was always bright eyed and bushy tailed every day. Of course I also got to sleep at a quality time for me (imposed by my maternal figure) so my body got used to the circadian rhythms. They got me through.
But then I got older. Teenage years were not the best. The solid sleep that I had gotten as a youngster had become an anchor because I began sleeping too soundly, not waking up when the alarm went off. Banging on my room door became the norm (since I had gotten a chain lock, for privacy’s sake), and the yelling of my mother in the morning began to assimilate itself into my dreams.
As I got to young adulthood, though, something shifted, something fundamental changed, and at first I had no idea what it could possibly be. Eventually I realized it was my bedtime. I had started watching 10 o’clock television shows on my black and white television, so I didn’t get to bed until at least 11 on most nights, and oft times later on others (I blame Mario and Luigi). These changes threw off my REM sleep, and the cycle got all jumbled up. Continue reading “300 Writing Prompts: #146”
“Describe a ‘first day’ in your life.” I’m really big on firsts. The first tooth I lost was a cause for utmost celebration, even though it created an imbalance in my mouth, because I knew more would follow. The first time I kissed a girl the smell of her gum (cinnamon) stayed with me for … Continue reading 300 Writing Prompts: #143
Back in 1998 I was writing… a lot. And most of what I wrote back then was short fiction. It was a renaissance of sorts because I hadn’t really planned on it. In fact, for the past year before that I was writing a lot of poetry snippets. Not real poems, mind you, just bits … Continue reading Flash Fiction Challenge #8 (Something New)
“Complete this thought: ‘Today I hope…’” Today I hope we can be mature adults, that we can talk about deeply important issues without resorting to name calling, throwing dirt, and wrecking friendships. I hope that love stops being a dirty word that makes others worry about our state of mind. I hope that our choices … Continue reading 300 Writing Prompts: #140
I’m starting to get used to writing short fiction again, and I’m reminded of why I’ve always loved it so much in the first place. Short fiction is a chance to get down and dirty with characters, with plots, and with the development of both, without getting too attached because I know they’re going to … Continue reading Flash Fiction Challenge #5 (Chocolate)