I wasn’t really interested in yesterday’s prompt, so I didn’t complete it. I find I have to be moved by a prompt in order to complete it, which is something I perhaps need to work on. I might find writing a more viable source of income if I learn to write even when I’m not necessarily moved to do so.
Today’s prompt however did spark my interest. Despite my propensity for exploring language, I am always intrigued by prompts which constrain me to certain word limits, just as I am to prompts which give me unconnected words to blend together in a piece of writing.
You stumble upon a random letter on the path. You read it. It affects you deeply, and you wish it could be returned to the person to which it’s addressed. Write a story about this encounter.
Today’s twist: Approach this post in as few words as possible.
Somewhere overhead I hear geese calling to one another on their South-bound flight. This morning is crisp; I wear a coat, but no hat or gloves. Halfway along the path past the cemetery I see a scrap of paper caught in a hedge. It’s a letter, handwritten on actual stationary; an archaic practice to most these days. The delicate script draws my attention, and I begin to read. It is short, just one page. By the time I am finished I am crying again.
I would give it to my father if I could; if I hadn’t just buried him.