Have you ever sat down to write but had no idea what to write about?
Every second Thursday, we solve that problem for you because we give you a new writing prompt.
Today, it’s all about the details. When you quiet down and think about the face of love, who or what comes to mind?
Is it a person, a pet, a moment? What does love look like to you?
We’d love to experience this love with you. If you care to, share your story with us. Upload an MS Word or Adobe .pdf document to the comments section below, and let us celebrate with you.
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Remember always: The only way to do this wrong is to not do it at all!
Until next time, happy writing!
I’ve attached my short story.
Twinkling Eyes While working nights at a Mr. Donut shop, in October of the early seventies, I heard the door chime notifying a customer had come in. I set down the last donut that I had to cover in chocolate and washed my hands. I dried and proceeded to walk to the restaurant serving area. The customer had not seated himself on the bar stools around the counter as customers did. Instead, he walked towards the donut preparation room. As I stepped through the doorway I saw a young man with long wavy dark brown hair, a full beard, and… Read more »
Who came to me was my friend, Chaplain Ellie, at the hospital near where I had my congregation. I felt safe with her and spoke my truth to her. I spoke of the negativity I felt about life that my mother passed on to me. She said, “You don’t believe God cares about what you want.” It was true. I had a difficult time in my 12-step programs with turning things over to God. God, to me, was a figure that did not care about me, did not want me alive, expected me to be a slave and to expect… Read more »
Thank you for sharing the thoughts of your friend Ella and the struggles she helped you with, Orah. Love, indeed.
You’ve touched something BIG here, Patricia. Enormous, deep. Tying in to so many stories like a river running through the landscape of my life. I wrote two pages, then misplaced them. No matter, the idea of a theme is what stayed.
I met a white Arab horse named Beruq (Baruch), which means Blessing. He watched me with his soft large brown eyes as I walked into his paddock. After a minute of peering, he turned and walked up close to me of his free will. I could feel his desire for me, love for me. He placed his muzzle gently against my abdomen. We shared breath. I looked over at Dave with a smile. Despite his faults, shying at patches of snow on the ground and spunky prancing, of course, I took him home. There is nothing more precious than being… Read more »