Free Write: A Day In My Life
Today’s post is based on a writing prompt I shared in a previous Daily Drafts & Dialogues post. Keep reading to see what I wrote, and to access more writing prompts.
What I wrote below is based on the following writing prompt: Set a timer for ten minutes. Once you start the timer, start free writing about what a typical day in your life looks like. Write about whatever comes to your mind as soon as it comes to your mind, and don't overthink what you're writing about. Don't stop writing until the timer goes off.
A Day In My Life
I'm lucky. A day in my life these days is usually pretty tame and predictable. Which is pretty significant, seeing as how the world is going up in flames both figuratively and literally. I have my loved ones (near and far) and pets and food to eat and a roof over my head and minimal regrets. I also have my books, a vast home library actually, though it should be better organized. And I have my writing (if writing can be 'had'?) which keeps me plenty occupied, sane, and entertained each day, every day, most days, more often than not. My health, my body, is also currently intact. I have outdoor space to run around each dawn to feel uninhibited and unencumbered, limitless, unless it's too windy, as I glide past and in between rows and rows and hills and valleys of copy-pasted houses that blend in with the excavated, exploited unfilled, unfulfilled background land and sky, for something elusive and intangible, perpetually out of reach for many. Still, I can't or won’t complain, because I can go as many miles as my lungs and legs will carry me. I can lap as many circles as I wish underneath the rising sun or setting moon, sometimes both at once, as I clear my mind, before I fill it with language and prose and existential concerns or anything else it needs or craves for the day, from and for the page(s). On firm concrete, no less, that wraps around and around, going nowhere but here. Isn't this THE DREAM? Of many like me at least? To arise. Run free. Consume fresh breakfast smoothies. Then write all morning on a clean slate of sorts. About other things and other people somewhere else. Then read all afternoon. About other things and other people somewhere else. Yes. A day in my life is but an accidental, aimless dream worth clinging to, to transpose for effective use and affection for and with other people somewhere else, and here, before it becomes too palpable and solid, an affectation, before the liberating light of dawn sets permanently on everyone. Is it not?
I might revise, edit, or add to this draft in the future. Stay tuned.
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Today’s Writing Prompt
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Write a scene that has a clothesline in it.
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