“Good Writing is supposed to evoke sensations in the reader—not the fact that it is raining, but the feeling of being rained upon.” ~ E.L. Doctorow
The house is quiet when I walk in from work. But his truck is in the driveway, so he must be here. As I shrug off my coat I see him in the kitchen. Oh, how sweet. He is cooking dinner. Cones of light shine down from the vaulted ceiling, steam swirling upward, quickly dissipating. The rest of the house is dark and I feel like I am watching a play. The gentle clanking of metal against metal and the hiss of hot oil echo in the room.
It’s always in slow motion when I remember this. It felt like slow motion as it played out. Maybe a part of me knew what was coming and tried to fend it off any way I could.
When he sees me, he turns the burners down and walks toward me, telling me that M. called. I remember thinking it was odd that he called instead of H.
But mostly I am focused on his face. I haven’t seen this face before. We’ve been married for only a few years. I realize there is so much more for us to learn about each other.
When he reaches me, his hands wrap gently, oh so tenderly around my arms. I still have no idea what is going on. No idea what he is about to say.
But when the words leave his mouth, they feel inevitable.
“B. is dead.”
But not true.
A part of me knows.
A part of me repels the idea. The words.
“No, she’s not.”
He nods, not wanting to say it again.
I shake my head, wrapping my own arms tightly around my body, as if to keep it from imploding, chanting the same words over and over.
No, she’s not.
No she’s not.
Until they no longer even sound like words.
Until they are merely sounds vomiting from this new, deep, raw sad of part of me I didn’t even know existed.
• • • • • •
How much did I write today?
2 1/2 hours
What did I work on?
Healthy Living Journal
WYA Dig Deeper and Writing Prompt
Times of day:
3:30 5:30 in my nook
5:45 – 6:15 at my computer
A little tired. Had a lazy day. Too much TV. Left me mentally sluggish. And I waited until too late in the day to work again. Mornings are prime time for me.
Put off writing until my mental energy was oh so low.
I showed up anyway and wrote.
Each day that I write is day that I didn’t quit.