Daily Prompt: Proclivity Creative Writing: Megan’s daily practice, a ritual developed to make it from one day to the next, had become her only solace. An escape from what she couldn’t face in the faces of everyone she knew, and many that she didn’t. Now, the very thing she felt was holding every molecule of her…
Its sail unfurling against the storm, it would carry us forward, us clinging to hope …
I was wrong, 40 seconds goes by in a snap and next minute I was standing in our lounge room, in front of this gorgeous creature, him just out of the surf and smelling like salt — me standing in my favourite navy and white stripe, Disney Dopey night shirt!
Her little hands tucked under her chin in prayer position, lips pink with gloss, hair all tumbling curls pinned with tiny rose buds, I wondered how she was going to get through such a long day
Challenging…to say the least when you can’t seem to stay one step ahead, no matter the effort, the strength and resilience shown.
It wasn’t like I had meant to add to the busyness of her day, yet I could feel her glaring at me through the phone. It was all rather odd.
You’re not ready for the world yet little ones. Stay inside. Stay inside.
Mr and Mrs Wilton were raising a house full of boys into men, right next door to me, and when you sat at the dinner table with them, which I did often, the fragrance of male hormone mixed with sweat and dirty socks was intoxicating to a fourteen year old girl.
This show needs to sing like a choir of angels harmonizing as if the first child were born. This is my first child. My baby! I need music so sweet people will cry. I need Ed Sheeran!
‘Alice, you keep missing a step, salt then lemon — and listen, he’s not worth the hangover you’re going to have in the morning.’