As part of the January Mindful Writing Challenge, I am writing one small stone each day and posting it on my Tumblr. Every Sunday, I will aggregate them here.
As I wind down on the challenge, I struggled to keep up with my writing. A few days, I actually wrote the small stone mentally and then posted it from memory in the morning. When I committed to this challenge, I had aspirations for continuing the practice through the year. Now, I have aspirations to last four more days. Once I reach February, I’ll reevaluate. On the plus side, I have 27 stones for 27 days.
This morning, frost has covered the window panes, made cold white prisms of our condensation.
Today, I glimpsed the river in my peripheral vision: muddy green with white caps, the edges frozen solid blue.
Each night, she practices leaving me. She slowly turns around, shouts “bye!” then toddles away. Moments later, she runs back into my arms, only to leave again.
One by one, I pluck grapes from their skeleton vine. I love the twist and pop, the slight give before each one separates.
Short, brown-black fur, speckled with yellow dandruff covers a generous belly that slopes towards the floor. He waddles with every loping step, searching for his next bite.
Single silver pane surrounded by layers of peeling white paint. The paint flakes and curls, framing the oak tree’s silhouette outside.
During the Ice Storm
Our sidewalks look like someone spilled a salt shaker over them. Heavy white crystals coat the cement. Tomorrow, if there is sun, the ice will fuse and melt into glass.