Mired in misery and fear is a southern town some say lost its hospitality along the way. Where comfort is a waterfront plantation on a hilltop nestled between wealth and privilege for as many generations as recorded in the town’s historic buildings. And the beauty of days past is dutifully preserved in gardens in ever perfect bloom arising from ancient soil. Distance calls it perfection.
Daily Prompt: Open Letter
Dear Lovely Community,
As I have immersed myself into Part 2: Challenge to Finish a Project, I told you of dual projects (one mandatory) but I’m aware that I have written fewer letters these days as I have practiced writing for fiction characters. and other shorter poems, but I read a quote on a blog for writers that keeps returning to me, and I’ll post a link when I think of it or find it again- (or if you read it too, send me a link). It’s about how one should write the book you have- not the one you want. Have you ever seen something that you liked at the time but becomes LOUDER to you later. So loud that you’re nudged to feel that there’s something important to be learned from it? Well, that quote was like that to me… Here are chapter excerpts from the book I “have“. And it’s non-fiction so far. I hope you enjoy the preview. It’s about a question we have when we start or pick up enough pieces- how in the heck does one arrive where they are– so many factors that make a person who he or she is- our ethnocentrism (somewhere an Anthropologist is smiling). I noticed earlier that there are at least three regular posts in draft O_O and I said I wouldn’t do that! So Ya know what that means? to fix it 😀 I’m getting there haha! Thank you so much for following with me on this journey. Enjoy!
If you are also working on this Challenge, feel free to post your updates.
Click “More” to Preview the Excerpt
Love Mekanism Project: “Growing Up Super-Angel-Mother-Nature-Human”
Demise and Burial of the Half-assed Apology
We are gathered here today to eulogize the Half-assed Apology. In recent years, Half authored acclaimed works such as: “I’m sorry you took it that way.” “I regret that your feelings were hurt.” the popular series “I apologize if…” and other relationship-damaging political lawyering gobbledygook our loved ones have come to exchange as par for the course with newly discovered pseudo-celebrity.
Mr. Apology came of age with Crossed Fingers and later Instead O. Permission. They became fast friends with him but regret they cannot be here today as it has become difficult for them to appear in public. We were unable to find any notable long-term accomplishments, and his surviving family members couldn’t be here. It says on this note here:
To whom it may concern:
Please inform No One, that I will be attending the bedsides of closer relatives, Honest Mistake and I. F. Dupp, instead. After that, I’ll be working overtime on a world tour promoting for One Self and his clients, Forgive and Forget, on their new book entitled, Good Luck Getting an Apology Nowadays. How ’bout Nick Saban?
Pr’ tendit Didn-Thappen
Kids please get outta that dirt! Hmm…what am I doing? I’m just mm-making mud pies. Oh..this box? A…pretend baking pan. Ok, you’re right; I’m lying. I’m sorry for lying to you; I was embarrassed to admit that I’m eulogizing a figurative– right, you’re 3. I was embarrassed. I’m just trying to say that it’s ok to make mistakes and that sometimes even the best choices can turn out to be wrong. Why not apologize, make it right the best you can, and move on- especially for someone you love?
Fiction #2 by Meka
A fictional short story of love. A woman and her daughter locked in a battle of wills–struggling to be heard. Who will win?
Didn’t I tell you not to scream inside? Must I chide you for screaming inside. This is a place of peace and quiet, so respect it. No screaming inside!
Child, have you no pride? People can hear you screaming outside. What will they say? You’ll be a lady someday, and ladies don’t scream outside!
Find your respect this moment young lady, or take cover. You can NEVER again scream at your mother. You should only obey and love her, it seems– but never ever ever scream!
…are all I wished to say, but the contortion of your face as it pressed out the weighty matters of selfish cookie-hoarding monsters or the taunting manner in which he’s “lookin’ at you” are not quite the same today, so I’ll wait.
You look more like me because “if you were you” you would have sought my guidance. I know you cannot see clearly because I saw your clarity streaming down your cheeks and to your dark painting
As I gently scraped stray streaks of blue paint from her yellow to look busy, she barely says hello anymore. I just tell her anyway what I think she needs to know- in case my baby is in there listening someplace.
“Control yourself…you’ll learn…have to pay attention…just one thing…and instincts…aware… image… grow and evolve….spirit… when you’re older…anticipate…in case of danger… think…yes you’re the same…. never forget… unexpected….but dust yourself off…distant memory, so remember…be..better…bigger… individual…yes, I’m aware..but true friends… pray…trust..don’t ask so many… no, snitching is..You are beautiful…smile!..only once….ever you want to be… melody…lovely painting”
Eye rolls, lip smacks, and occasional grunts are all I ever notice anymore, yet her silence is the most deafening like a barrage of discomforting nothingness followed by a hanging high-five as she disappears right in front of me. “If that’s all…” she says politely in a tone so perfect I would’ve dismissed it easily if I weren’t her mom.