a writing prompt leads to awareness

Warning, this is honest and real, not particularly easy to read.
But you are my friends... and you are able to take me as I am and know me.

This morning I decided to do a writing prompt from this place using these words as a prompt for a story or poem.

Just like all my creative endeavors, it reflects me and flowed from me. I thought I would share it with you as a moment in time. It is real. It is honest. It is not a Hallmark moment or easy but it is real. Honest.

Is that okay?

the word prompts:

ropes, mowing, unpacked, lie, caskets, cemetery, box, face, desert, lawn, sleeping, changed

 The rules are to use as many of the words as you like (the ones I used are in bold type)... I am linking to the party here:   http://sundayswhirligig

The story

She felt the ropes tightening around her, pinching and squeezing. Demanding a decision.


The had to move, home had become untenable. Life was becoming so small.

She had begun their time in that house with such hope. She imagined all the things she could do to make it a haven for the two of them plus one. The big aged black lab she called her daughter. Even their lab felt at home on the green lawn, able to lie in the sun and feel a breeze across her sleek fur

They sat on a back porch that felt like a secret room, and planned their new lives and home. They changed the feel of their new yard by creating paths, and lighting them, and hanging flower pots and bird feeders. They invited nature in to sit with them on evenings as they talked about the day.



Weekends found them out placing stone walkways, planting vegetables along with hope of belonging and fitting in. They walked the neighborhood, and met people, hoping to fit in as well as the walkways did.

Every  unpacked box held excitement, as they found a place for it's contents in their new home, making them feel more permanent.


This is our place they thought.

Many hopes and dreams were pinned on this place.


Slowly, over many years, they gave up the dreams and efforts.
 They realized they did not belong here.
 Still they tried to find a way, still hoped, still tried.
Time changed the safety of their haven to one of danger. Toxins and smoke filled their days. They lost their lab and found a poodle but when he left them too, they had to face facts. They were just holding on, waiting to breathe, they never had fit in or belonged.


It was so difficult to face the facts. They struggled, and tried to make the best of it, and finally agreed they were out of time in this home.

Is this life? they wondered? Is it enough to hold on and put up with and keep putting one foot in front of the other. Is there a choice? Choices are often harder to face than having none.


    So they made a change, because change is life, change is growth, growth is life. Right?


But all change is not good, most growth is painful. We want to know the right choices to make. One only recognizes a "right" choice in hindsight, not on the street. There is only making choices and living with them.

Here they are at this stage of life, change foisted upon them, nothing but insecurity and fear to walk on daily.
Pressure to find the new home in a new place, with the underlying fear  that the new one might be wrong too.
They hoped the "right" home would be apparent, that it would stand up and shout "me! I'm the one! Welcome!"

All change is not good. Growth is painful. Uncertainty plagues them throwing a wet blanket over hope's face. They still seek life and a home in which to belong.They have a new poodle now, to lie on the lawn, and feel the breeze in his hair. They need a place to unpack boxes and belong.

linking to all seasons