Day 28 Writing Short Stories

Puzzle

I always thought I was a lousy riddle maker, a solver of puzzles. That I was always meant to sit in the background and be a fall flower of the abandoned, but then life took me away from those who kept me small, who had all my life told me that my mind worked wrong, that I was too strange and simple to exist. Only after that did I notice how the universe worked, and I was no longer a forgotten note. I was the music, the creation, the solver, never alone, always connected. I became the speaker of the ancient, the one whom the kings and distant sultans came to consult through me.

They spoke about distant worlds, the wrinkles in the stars that folded, letting the death light travel to us. There in the folds, life beyond ours existed, and only the powerful could harness it to shape the matter.

—

And that is as far as I can get. I feel restless. So restless that I had to take my balance board out to balance my nervous system. I keep checking my phone, thinking worlds are altered, but they aren’t. Now that I’m on the board, I feel more focused, but only slightly. My eyes keep darting from one thing to another, and here I had the perfect opportunity to write something I might like enormously, something I know how to write. I got today lyrical, fantasy with a quest and done in first-person, all a writer can hope for, yet here I am standing on a balance board, trying to find my center. I couldn’t find a story, a narrative. I had this initial idea, but the rest didn’t follow.

Thank you for reading! Have a day of balance ❤