Salute
I salute thee, Mr. Puss, you trample through the house without a single care. You treat my lap as a place to take a warm nap.
I salute thee, Mr. Puss, you have made my life all about hunting food for you. There’s no single day that I don’t face a dragon to be slain.
I salute thee, Mr. Puss, you are my universe. The king of the house, I love you more than my innocent spouse.
I salute thee, Mr. Puss, you have mastered life.
Wannabe
Oh, again this word, wannabe! I flinch when I see it. It clearly is equivalent to the moist words for me. So I skipped this prompt where grandmother friends her cool-kid wannabe grandson on social media.
Babysitter
Why, oh why? Another prompt that doesn’t spark the will to write. A grouchy, single, middle-aged man gets saddled with his sister’s kids. I skipped over this one, too.
The prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.
So much skipping today, even when I made such a speech to write out of my genre preferences. Yet, these felt like…like…like annoyance and torment, a test that I never wished for. And I fail, fail so horribly that it rattles my core.
I could barely write the first prompt, but under my cat’s watchful eye, I got something written. Not my best work, not the most exciting I can write, but I wrote, and I’m satisfied with that. Still, I wanted not to publish today’s prompts. The story about Mr. Puss have no originality, nothing that makes me happy that I wrote it. I want to erase it and not put it out there. Yet, I resist. It is the best I could do today. And I sigh.
My brain is currently talking nonsense to me, chattering about this and that which is irrelevant. But that chatter is making it hard to concentrate. My attention is swinging from one thing to another, and so is my mood. It is as if there’s a nervous whirlwind inside me, and I have no clue where it came from and why. So, I think I will take my cat and put him to work to calm my nerves.
I will try my best tomorrow.
Thank you for reading ❤ Have a serene day!

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