Cleaning my attic began as a chore, until I came across a box of memories. Inside, I found my old journal, wedged between a tin of keychain mementos and a scrapbook.
The single bulb illuminated the past while I sat among the cobwebs and boxes reading the perfectly slanted words. My penmanship seemed to contradict the life I was living at that time. I found myself feeling sorry for the young woman … as if someone else lived that part of my life. I packed the journal away, but the following words remained with me.
"Love shouldn't hurt like this. Life shouldn't be something I muddle through. It's abnormal to breathe a sigh of relief just because I wasn't harmed a day out of the week. I refuse to stumble through the motions of existence any longer. I want to live. I want to stop watching sunrises with no color in my heart. I refuse to bear another day of darkness. Today, I will leave him. "
(I did. Moreover, years later a man who really loves me is by my side and in my heart.)
Why am I telling you this? Because, moments in our lives are rich with suggestions for a story. I don't believe in writers block. There is inspiration in everything. Be it a breeze carrying the smell of lavender, sparking the scent of a character's hair … or like today, when the past creeps into the future, creating an idea for my next book.
~*~Summer Wench
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