Needle and Thread

Jan10

Regina sat down in her favorite chair.  The one shaped like a ufo that engulfs her on all sides making her feel safe.  It’s soft pink almost cashmere cushion warming her from the draft that intrusively enters the old fashioned jalousie windows.  She pulls her Johnny Depp fleece blanket over her legs and gets settled in, remembering the events earlier in the day that caused her to tear her favorite blue and pink stripped sweater.  It had been an exhausting day at work and she could not wait to get home.  Since it is winter break the Windsor Elementary school let out early.  It was customary for her to pack the few personal belongings she keeps on her desk in a small cardboard box to take home with her.  The classroom was unusually warm so she had taken it off about mid-morning.  As she reached her car fumbling to get her and the belongings inside, the sweater got caught on the inside of the car door and ripped.  “Oh crap” she belted out-loud, taking a peak around her hoping no one was nearby.  “Now I am going to have to locate my grandmother’s old sewing kit, and sew it up tonight.  I hate sewing.”  Back in the moment she takes a sip of her warm soothing hot chocolate and pulled out the needle and thread.  Searching through the threads she realizes that the only color left is black.  “Oh great, there goes that relaxing moment.  Maybe I will just buy another sweater.”

2012 Writing Resolution

Jan9

In 2011 I became to realistic in my writing.  So many events happened over the year that made me focus on the reality and here and now.  I became so involved in facts and routine, I lost the creative fiction side of my brain.  I would stare out into space with nothing but facts entering my thoughts.  It was torture trying to fictionalize something.  So my resolution this year is to tap into that creative fictional side of my brain and allow fiction to flow through me as easily as non-fiction does.

Here it goes…

Looking Through the Fog

Nov25

When you suffer with depression it is hard to fight through the fog and realize there are things in life to be thankful for.  Looking through my fog I see my mom as clear as the Waterford crystal in my grandmother’s china cabinet.  With all the briar patches I have stumbled into throughout the passing years, she has been there on the other side to pick out all the thorns.  She is the one constant treasure I can always count on.  I can also see my sister, my friend from high school, and my new friend Angela who is always there with encouragement and support.  As I part the seemingly thick fog, I pass traits I possess such as courage and survival, and the overwhelming feeling of gratitude.  I am so thankful to God for all the many blessings in my life.  The fog may come and go, range in thickness, but in the end the love and gratitude in my heart will for ever remain.

Searching in Silence

Oct19

I stare at the peach colored paint chipped wall, thinking, stretching for a thought.  All I see is the darkness in my mind, a thick wall waiting to be knocked down.  Think, think, what can I write about?  Where is the creativity that used to run as free and flowing as a silent breeze on a cool Autumn day.  I search and search wondering where my right brain disappeared to.

 

©2011 Tara Brugh