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Here is Annie’s writing prompt #14. It is a lovely picture, but I decided to deal with the quote in the picture for this prompt.  It says “If I let you in please don’t break anything.”

She told him,

“If I let you in, please don’t break anything.”

A wounded heart,

fragile like glass.

She longs to feel safe,

but what does that look like?

She must create it herself.

I was having a hard time downloading the picture prompt. Click here to view the picture before or after reading my little poem.

She swings listlessly in the mist

In an Alice in Wonderland tree.

Cruel branches, knobby and angular.

In the weight of her surrounds

She sings mournfully of her man

Who fell in spring at Monte Cassino.

“Write about an intense game of Scrabble that takes a turn for the worse.” –Writing Prompt from Mama Kat.

I picked this prompt because I did have a Scrabble game with Tim early in our relationship that went awry. He kept using all 7 tiles, which I thought was virtually impossible. I was furious! It was so funny. I didn’t realize at the time that it really is quite possible to use all seven letters. I know not why I didn’t think that was so.  Once I realized this, I started having games where I used all 7 tiles. It’s a 50 point bonus, you know. That’s a lot! Or maybe 100. Can’t remember.

I learned an important lesson here. I’ve always ascribed to believing anything can happen. It isn’t hard to convince me something great will happen. Here, once I knew that it wasn’t that difficult to use all 7 letters, I was able to do that on a regular basis. In all my years of Scrabble before, I had never used all 7 letters.

Granted, Scrabble wasn’t my first game choice. I like card games–spades and hearts. I used to love Backgammon, played it constantly, but I’m not sure I could set the board up properly now. The kids got me to play Cards Agains Humanity and it was hilarious.

Someone I knew was talking about blogging today and it made me want to blog. It’s been a long time. I would love to write poetry again. Or maybe just take a writing class. I like this one that’s more of a diary class, really, but I love his prompts. It’s been years since I took it.

Let me leave you with a pic–hopefully it will work properly. It’s been so long since I blogged the format has changed a bit.

I doodled my name!

I doodled my name!

Italo Calvino said: The more enlightened our houses are, the more their walls ooze ghosts. Describe the ghosts that live in this house: Image credit: “love Don’t live here anymore…” – © 2009 Robb North – made available under Attribution 2.0 Generic

At one point this house could have been a schoolhouse or perhaps a small railroad stop.  It would be in a rural area.  There would always be a breeze, sometimes an uncomfortable wind, because it’s in the middle of the field. 

A girl waits and waits for her soldier boy to return.  I can see her sitting on a bench, in a dress, with her purse in her lap. 

A teacher mourns one of her boys killed while working the fields.  She is tall, dressed in a shirt with a high small collar, tucked into a drab skirt that reaches the floor.  She’s kind of in black and white.  Or grays, I should say.  She paces back and forth, endlessly.

I see a passel of grubby children.  They are hungry at times.

These are the ghosts I see in this house.