In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Can’t Drive 55.”
Take the third line of the last song you heard, make it your post title, and write for a maximum of 15 minutes.
That magnificent voice…a weekend trip to Auckland…1996…
In a room so full of light, there can still be so much darkness…what lurks in the shadows? What is not as it seems..?
Miss the big mister under his bright red tree…
Winchester. Bingo. Baseline. Reboot/
The Sun. Light. Warmth. Comfort.
Smile. Say something nice.
Blossoms already on the trees, others still trying to shed last year’s cover …confused trees…bees out in force…no more frost..?
Confidence. Ability. Trust.
Ain’t done dancing.
15 minutes. Random words.
Off to chop more wood in the sun…lawns all mowed (mown?)…fresh air drifting through the big windows…