WRITING PROMPT: Write the words.....

WRITING PROMPT: Write the words "I remember..." at the top of a blank page then, without hesitation, write the next words that come to you. Be specific. Write some of the details of what you want to write about, not just the idea of it. As soon as you've completed a few sentences of the image, and before you stop to think of the next, drop down a few lines and begin again with the words "I remember..." and write the next snapshot that comes. Do it again and again until you've filled a page. Each of these "I remembers" becomes a door into a writing session.


I REMEMBER:
The day I got stung by a bee while I was riding my tricycle. I was all by myself in the middle of the trailer court holding my left hand flat. On top of it was a paper towel and on top of the paper towel was a white powdered sugar doughnut. The bee came after the doughnut, got stuck under the paper towel and stung me. I dropped my doughnut onto the ground and started crying. My memory is that I was crying more for the loss of my doughnut than I was for the pain of the bee sting.

I REMEMBER:
The day I accidently shot a little sparrow with the BB gun that I was NOT supposed to be playing with. A friend of mine, Scottie Poe, let me borrow the gun for the day. I stood out in my back yard and aimed at the little bird and pulled the trigger. The next thing I knew the little bird was flopping all over the yard screaming out in pain and I did not know what to do. I buried him alive in a little hole that I dug in haste and worry. I will never forget the sorrow I felt for the bird.

I REMEMBER:
Watching the moonflowers bloom each night with my neighbor Dempsey. I always felt special because my mom would call in my sisters at dusk but she would let me go across the yard into the neighbors' yard where the old man would be sitting on his back steps waiting for me. Together we would walk to his little garden to watch the yellow flowers bloom underneath the street light in the alley. The bushes would shake with life and it was fun to guess which flower would bloom next.

I REMEMBER:
The anxiety of driving out to grandma K's house for our big Christmas party! I knew that Santa would eventually be there. I knew there would be stockings full of gifts and our yearly ornament from grandma. I knew that after stockings we would be visited by santa claus so we all had to run to each window and the sliding glass door to listen for the jingle bells that announced his arrival. I knew we'd all take turns sitting on his lap so we could tell him what we wanted for Christmas. I knew he would give each of us a brown paper lunch bag that had been folded down neatly and stapled shut. Inside there would be an apple or an orange, some peanuts, and a little bit of candy. I knew that on the way home dad had to drive careful because there might be reindeer walking around on the road out.

I REMEMBER:
Waking up at four or five in the morning so Kara and I could be on time to meet the swim team bus. It would be very dark but we would be wide awake and feeling grown up and responsible. We would make sure we had the lunch that we'd packed the day before usually with special snacks that we had walked to the grocery store to shop for on our own. We bought special granola bars, special juice drinks, we bought packages of sweetened kool-aid so we could lick our fingers and use them to dunk inside the blue or green sugar and then suck them dry. We bought strawberry and grape flavored hubba-bubba bubblegum. We packed our lunches, our swimming suits, our towels, our extra spending money and we walked through the cool darkness towards the pool and the park. We could here the noisy rumble of the bus waiting for us the minute we walked out our door, as the pool was only two blocks away. We walked, hand in hand, feeling so responsible.

I REMEMBER:
Seeing my dad cry for the first time in my life the day I left for the first time. He clenched his teeth hard trying to will the tears NOT to come. But they came. I hugged him and I know he didn't want to let go. He told be to be careful. He told me to call them when I got there. He told me to keep in touch. He told me he loved me. And then he did let me go. But only after he told me to call them when I got there one more time.

Writing Prompt: Write a letter to somebody....

WRITING PROMPT: Write a letter to somebody. Think of someone specifically you would have a hard time talking to in person. This could be a love letter, a letter of concern, a letter of support.... be open and honest. Be graphic, be concise; this may be the only chance you'll have of letting this person know how you feel.

If you were to ever read this, you would know
that I am writing it to you. I don't know why
it feels wrong because I have not done any
thing wrong. It's just that you are easier to
write to than talk to; you always have been.

We are the same even though you will never
agree with me and I would deny it if I were
asked. Our lives are as different as night and
day, yet we are the same. We have the same
insecurities, the same needs, the same hurts,
the same desires, the same thoughts.......
whether they are right or wrong. We are only
human after all.

We also have a history. And if history tends
to repeat itself then we are both in trouble.
We share it whether we like it or not. It sits
between the two of us bubbling, festering.
Neither one of us is going to bring it up or
discuss it because it would be awkward and
we both know that awkward will not work for
us. You try hard to please and I try hard to
stay in the background. My days of trying to
please came and went. I just went away. I am
still gone but nobody seems to notice!

Least of all you.

You keep trying to find that magic button,
that magic number, that magic word but you
can't. Maybe you, too, should just settle for
the back row. It keeps you out of trouble for
the most part. But you just put on your face
and then your other face when the first one
doesn't work. You sneak into places you
shouldn't be. Into people's hearts and their
minds and their homes and their private
moments and their memories. You know you
don't belong there but you stay there until
you are about to be found out.

Then you leave. You will only come back
when you are ready. It doesn't matter to
you that you leave people lonely, scarred,
naked and shaking.

You are carrying secrets but you forget
which secrets you tell people so it's always
a guessing game about what you can and
cannot say. You tell people things that you
know you should NOT be telling. Secrets
you know you shouldn't be talking about.
It makes you feel powerful.

I do the same thing.
It's wrong.
But I learned it from you.

Part of me wants to hug you and never
let go because I know that we are the
same. The other part of me wants to run
as fast and far away from you as I can
get and not look back. But you hold a few
tiny, special pieces of me in your calloused
hands that nobody knows or understands.
That's why I love you. That's why I just
stand here with my soft hands hanging
open and awkardly by my side.

You bring out the best in me.
You bring out the worst in me.

I am pretty sure I do the same for you.