There was nothing to write that didn’t include describe a bosom. I walked, shuffled, to be honest, to my bedroom and saw the red notebook next to the dog and a bundled blanket. Leaning over to grab the spiraled diary, I felt the friction of an ample belly against my waistband after too much chinese food. Gross vanity disgusted me.
“I hate feeling old.”
Making my way back to the living room where the safety net of her, sat a few feet away, I opened the notebook.
On the third page was a story I didn’t think was worthy to transfer from paper to screen. Handwritten in number two pencil, with notes in the margin, was an idea that made me smile. The night before, in the midst of madness, I’d written without fear.
I unbuttoned my jeans, smiled at the middle-of-the-night creative bent, and started turning it into art.
I had nothing for Trifecta Writing’s “ample” until I chowed on chicken lo mein, went into my bedroom, and flipped open my notebook. This is a true, personal, anxiety-related story. http://www.trifectawritingchallenge.com/
Today’s song is probably my favorite one out right now. Gaslight Anthem’s new album, Handwritten, is excellent. Get it. This is the title track and it works for this. Crank it.