We all have one. A story I mean. The lovely, and gracious Pat of zencrafting sent me this gorgeous felted and embroidered stone for my birthday. She has created several of these, and most if not all have some kind of narrative attached to their creation. She also sent me this altered moleskin so that I might have a place (besides here) to put my stories.
82. I write this sitting in the kitchen sink. ~ Dodie Smith I Capture the Castle.
“This place where I have spent hours upon hours over the years, filling the sink with hot water, pouring in the various colored viscous liquid soap – green, yellow, blue – smelling in turn of green apples, lemon, lavender. Sniffing the dish cloth to make a judgement, time for the laundry, or usable for another bout of friction among the cutlery. I feel angry and spent, the emotions rising up in me like the steam above the billowing bubbles. I am the side of the sink that accepts all the dregs and leftovers scraped with the harsh ringing of fork on china. The dregs and leftovers scraped into it’s gaping maw. The darkness under the rubber ring of the disposal matching the dark, swallowing place inside of me. The rubber keeping all the wretchedness tamped down, keeping it from spewing back out when the grinding rage is set in motion as if by nothing more than a flick of a switch.”
One tiny paragraph in the story of my life…what would your paragraph say if you just sat down and wrote for 3 minutes?