I can not tell you how good it feels to be participating in Friday Fictioneers once again. And I do NOT say that simply as a blatant suck-up to Rochelle. No, it just does my heart good to be able to once again create off of someone else’s creativity. And then have the pleasure of seeing what everyone else in turn, also created from the same prompt.
OK, fine. I suppose it also is a little bit of a suck-up to Rochelle.
That being said, here’s my 100:
Leading me down the long dark hall, we tumbled into a white, bright room. One filled with miles upon miles of books, each a story, unique unto itself. While strolling I noticed one – not the oldest by far – simply entitled “Eden.”
“Now why’s that here?” I wondered to myself.
Knowing, he responded, “Must it not be? Could there be any others before or after, without it?”
“Then where is mine, sir?” I entreated, upset by its absence.
“Ah, yours,” He chuckled. “Yours is still being written, my child. It will only be placed upon the shelf, after you’ve completed it.”
I’ve been through a bit of a rough patch as of late and to be certain, the above resulting 100 could have easily been 1,000 or more words to fill in all the gaps. Suffice to say, the moral of this story is simply that I am still writing mine. The book is not yet closed, and as such, the song below makes for me at least, the perfect way to end today’s post.
t (yes k~, with green wings)