Skip down to the ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ to see the prompt and writing on it. Stay after the ๐๐๐ for thinking about what happens when the power goes out on a Sunday and both kids are home.
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My phone is still at 100% charged.
My eldest? His iPad is at 20%.
It is Sunday morning at 7:58am, and I know this because at 7am he came upstairs to let me know that the power was out, and that there was no internet.
Right now heโs on a swapped schedule and trying to โfixโ it so he can go to a meeting at his new school tomorrow.
So yesterday he went to bed at 2pm, and awoke at midnight. So heโs been up, with no power, in the dark for a while. He waited until 7am to come wake me up.
I let him use my hotspot so he could download some episodes of his favourite show. Made sure he had food. (Heโd already made himself breakfast) โฆand then I brought him a bunch of books, and a battery-powered glowing orb from my writerโs desk.
I left him reading the back of a book he seemed really interested in. He used to read ALL the time. Heโs likely read more books in his short 15 years that most people will read in their lifetime. But in the past couple of years he turned to streaming shows, and playing computer games, and has not read as much.
So maybe this surprise power outage will give him an opportunity to reconnect with words. And tomorrow heโll return to school for the first time in a year and a half.
Itโs a big day. This weird Sunday with no power. It the day before a huge change. Iโm hoping with all my heart that this school is the right school for my kids.
But I know not to put too much pressure on it all. It may or may not work out.
All I can do is hope and prepare them and give them opportunities to live their own lives.
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This week is all about fiction writing! My past self set out three prompts per short story. Character, genre, object. Iโm going to set a time for 7 minutes so I donโt take myself too seriously. Feel free to do what feels best for you. ๐
Todayโs prompts are:
A carpenter, western, a pile of wood
Geraldine put another log on top of the chopping block. It was a clear day. She looked down the hill to where her cows were grazing. Some were lowing, and some were resting and chewing their cud. The women sheโd hired to watch them were sitting on their horses chatting near the fence.
Geraldine set her intentions to the task at hand, getting enough wood chopped for the stove and tonightโs solstice fire.
Crack. She brought the axe down hard and split the first piece of wood in two. She kept picking up the pieces and splitting them until she had a nice pile of kindling. Then she started splitting bigger pieces to keep the fire burning all night.
Tonight Sheila was coming home, and after two years of waiting, and hundreds of letters back and forth, she wouldnโt have to watch the ranch alone anymore. She could go back to being a carpenter, to building houses rather than maintaining the homestead.
A cow mooed low in the distance, and Geraldine gathered a pile of wood to carry inside. She just hoped that prison hadnโt changed her wife too much.
Heart,
Wake