As I sit here with my helper on my arms, making typing quite difficult, I think of all the dreams I've had that I have not put into action. Becoming an author has been my secret dream since as long as I could remember. Finally, I am stepping into that role with my head held high (unless I'm looking at my hands doing all the writing). Here is a hundred word story that I'm submitting. They said putting it on a personal blog doesn't count as pre-published work. So. 100 word story.
Hallelujah
Stories and my heart have been inseparable even in my earliest memories. Most afternoons my grandfather read to me from an oversized green folktale book at the kitchen table, and we co-created bedtime tales of cats in the forest. When I recently explained my dearest wish was to become an author, and that I lacked confidence to let my words out into the world, the song we played at his funeral came on the radio. His presence filled the room with precious memories of love, and my very bones with Storyteller courage. I know he still watches out for me.
Hallelujah
Stories and my heart have been inseparable even in my earliest memories. Most afternoons my grandfather read to me from an oversized green folktale book at the kitchen table, and we co-created bedtime tales of cats in the forest. When I recently explained my dearest wish was to become an author, and that I lacked confidence to let my words out into the world, the song we played at his funeral came on the radio. His presence filled the room with precious memories of love, and my very bones with Storyteller courage. I know he still watches out for me.