Perhaps I write my little blog posts to talk back to me.
But I felt as though my novel, 5th&Hope was finished.
In other words, there was a voice in my head that told me not to mess with it anymore.
It remains to be seen, IF – I’ll get a serious publishing offer.
If not, I have decided I’ll simply self-publish it, and see what happens. Because I write for pure enjoyment. Some people like to play golf, some paint, I write.
So, I decided to restart a project with the working title, Little Boy.
I don’t write or share any story, or poem for that fact, without feeling it.
As in I have to be emotionally connected to the words, to see it all play out in my mind, to then write the story.
And yes, I know how this one ends.
It is an odd sensation to have a story roaming inside my mind as I live my life.
But if I’m connected to it, it’s always there, pecking at me. And this one keeps pecking at me.
I guess this is me, talking to me, to encourage me, to get on with it.
Below is the opening for, Little Boy.
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Little Boy
An unblemished boy was hidden deep within his dream as he walked bare footed without fear along the grass path that zigzagged between the forest trees.
Between the blades along his path was colorful fresh dandelions, daffodils and daisies.
He squinted his eyes as it was the darkness just before the dawn, but it was blanket warm with just enough gray light cast between the new growth for him to almost see his future.
Even though he was a little boy, and it was his first journey into his dream, he was mature enough that he sensed he was being watched from behind the limbs and leaves.
Beneath the branches he noticed there were no dead leaves or jagged rocks near the soaring tree trunks, trunks hugged by an innocent moist moss that quickly carpeted the forest floor.
It seemed it was glistening with green life as it flowed over the rocks, and the path, before it stopped at the clear waters edge. And in an instant, it had surrounded an active rocky waterfall.
For the boy could not understand, what he saw, was his own perfection for a life that was yet seen.
NS
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