…falling out of line to mess all the ducks up.
Today, I am picking up some scraps…thoughts I had before, but let slide because I wasn’t there in my story, yet.
Now, I need it. And like a favorite pair of socks that have gone through the dryer, I have misplaced it. Somewhere in the spiderwebs that inhabit my brain, it has gotten stuck.
And it would be easy to throw in the towel and say it doesn’t matter…I’ll just do this, instead. But it would forever nag at me…the greatness that it could have been. And I’ll find myself not satisfied with where it went.
So. I am writing. Anything I can think of, hoping it triggers what I lost.
Which is actually more hopeful than any socks I’ve lost in the dryer.
*This post is part of the Write 31 Days challenge.*