Writers Resources – Life on the Farmlet

I’ve been off my writing for Friday Fictioneers of late. However, when this photo from Adam Ickes was submitted this morning, by Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple, I just had to get my first impression written down. Thanks to you both for sharing.

The writing is open to anyone, and the rules are easy: writers are encouraged to be as innovative as possible with the prompt and 100 word constraints.

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What Carl didn’t Understand

Carl never really got the hang of living life in the real world. He’d grown up always wishing he was someone else. Somewhere else.

Fact is, he’d always wanted to be a cowboy, to go back in time and experience life in the rough. So one day at the museum he stunned everyone when he stripped down and just walked into the lobby mural. Too bad he didn’t know the rules of entering into a painting. You see, you don’t get to choose. Once you’re in, like a fly on flypaper, you’re static.

That’s him over on the lower left.

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For other takes on today’s great prompt look HERE!

Word count: 100

Today I am making a choice to challenge myself as a writer. I know, I write to you here on my blog, but I need to stretch my abilities, to gain some skill in other areas of conveying thought. To that end, I have decided to join up with thousands of others, HERE at The Daily Post.

It is not my intention to write every day, but through the week I may choose one or two prompts to stretch my brain and foster my creativity. How ironic then, that in choosing today to begin, the prompt should be one of a personal nature? Well, it is said to write about what you know, and so I begin.

Audience of One: Picture the one person in the world you really wish were reading your blog. Write her or him a letter.

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Dear Aaron,

You often told me of this lovely place and asked me to come visit you here. Your descriptions of the countryside, and the joy in your voice told me it was special, yet I delayed my interest in visiting. I was afraid to let go of home. Afraid of going somewhere new. So I stayed.

Why did I wait till your memorial to come and see you? Only then to discover what a beautiful place this is… after you were gone? How many times did Bob tell me that he wanted to leave California, to get out and live somewhere less hectic, more rural, and I dug in my heals. Resisted. Shut my heart to the thought.

I finally made it here little brother, and you were right all along. It is a beautiful place to live. My only regret is that you are not here to enjoy it with me. I write about it often here on my pages. I share the loveliness with others, and only wish that you could read it, that I might share it with you too.

I miss you little brother,

Lynda