dailyprompt
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After the squirrel, after the bread I. 4 a.m. — the heater hums its question. Afternoon, the air conditioner answers back. Between them: my body, a pendulum of want. II. Winter is a furnace. Summer, the frantic living. But here, autumn — I am learning the grammar of letting go while still breathing. The verb
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I grew up in that age when television screens stretched anywhere from a 13-inch “personal” set to a 28-inch family behemoth. In our house, we had one TV—24 inches, rabbit ears on top, wood panel sides, and a dial that clicked its way from channels 2 through 13 on VHF. Channel 3 was just snow,
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I left,then came back,less each time,until what I left behindwas more than what waited for mewhen I returned. This happened with love,with dreams,with promisesmore than I wanted to admit. I tried to believeI came home richer,but truth tugged at me:I left pieces behindand never returned with more. She must have seen it,must have felt itsometimes
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Do you recall the days gone by,Before the net lit up the sky?When phones were fixed upon the wall,And life moved slow, if moved at all. Messages waited by the door,A scribbled note, not something more.No pings or dings to steal the day,Just peace until you made your way. The world was smaller, sure, it’s
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“My father never spoke in parables, but his hands told stories clearer than any sermon. In wood, he found truth. In silence, understanding.” The sander thrummed in my grip, its vibration crawling up my forearm like a pulse, like memory. Mahogany dust hung in the warm air, rich and sharp, smelling of patience, of near-perfection,
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Today’s Prompt: Do You Have Any Collections? I’ve collected things, sure. Baseball cards, once. Matchboxes, briefly, though I’m still not sure what possessed me to start that one. Maybe it was the smallness of them, easy to gather, easy to lose. Like most things that felt important once and now sit in some dusty box
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Prompt of the Day: What’s the Legacy You Want to Leave Behind? Legacy? Sounds like something for kings, tech moguls, or that rich uncle who left you his vintage comic collection in his will. Merriam-Webster’s first definition agrees: legacy’s just cash or stuff you pass down. Snooze. But the second definition? That’s the juice—a lasting
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—have you ever broken a bone? Picture this: a scrappy backyard baseball diamond, cobbled together by three siblings with big dreams and zero budget. First base? A sickly, half-dead plant wheezing in a faded terracotta pot, so heavy we nearly busted a gut dragging it into place. Bits of clay flaked off, sticking to my
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Daily writing prompt Are you a leader or a follower? I do my best to lead by example and follow Christ Jesus!
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The last live performance I saw didn’t have curtains or spotlights—just an office, a boss, and a pathological liar with mascara and crocodile tears.
BB Grey--musings 