Writers might know what I’m talking about.
I guess each one of my stories was, at some point, a treasure box inside of me. The words hadn’t yet been formed, and if they had, they hadn’t been unjumbled into cohesive sentences that eventually would tell a tale. Well, I have another one that wants to be opened, but it’s not time right now simply because of the season, family, life, and reality around me. But I’m looking forward to writing this sequel. I even started.
But as an encouragement to those of you who write…sometimes it takes a long time to begin. Sometimes there are long pauses in between. But it’s there churning in your heart, and this novel might not let you sleep at night until you give it shape. And if it isn’t time…well, you can imagine a gilded box with rubies, topaz, and serpentine sparkling along its seams, the lock which pulsates eagerly for your touch to release it. The longer it stays there, the more robust it becomes.
Today’s clue. Visit my website to find it.
“Above all, don’t forget about the roses. We worked so hard, you and I, to tend them. Their roots survived the fire. They will bloom again, and you’ll have your own park, this haven will be an oasis for your soul, as it was mine.”
My version of William Waterhouse’s Pandora’s Box.
Making Believe 