Dear Readers,
I hope this post finds you well and that the new year has started out as well as humanly possible. Anything is better than 2020 right?
Today I decided to participate in a Writing Prompt I had received from a newsletter sent via Jericho Writers entitled: Three writing prompts to try before the end of the year. As you can see by the date of this post, as per usual, I am behind the times.
Below is a screenshot from the newsletter:
I am going to start with #1 today and continue with the subsequent prompts the following two Wednesdays. I would love for you to join me and let me know where you took the prompt either in the comments below or email me your entire story at whitneytjs@honestlyausten.com.
Here we go:
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It was in the silence I was found. Or more accurately I found myself.
No longer was the blaring of traffic, the sounds of the rambunctious children I held dear or the creaking of elderly stairs there to distract me.
In the silence, there was no place to hide.
What did I find?
Hadn’t I already known myself?
Hadn’t I already sat in silence with the me that had existed up until this point?
Hadn’t I already fought the voices echoing through my mind?
Figured out how best to defend myself against them?
Or allow them to counsel me against perceived wrongs?
In the silence, a new part of me emerged. A further fractured part. An ailing part.
I didn’t know how to handle her. I didn’t know how to recognize her. Allow her to grieve the lost things. There was no tinkling fairy, or band of other lost souls to guide her to any sort of refuge.
In all honesty for a time, I ignored her. I let her tears stream down my own chin. I didn’t know what to say. What to do.
Even when asked. Pried. She would not say a thing.
In the silence she remains silent.
Does she refuse to speak because I refused to listen?
Is it too little too late?
I will continue to sit in silence with a part of me that refuses to speak.
Waiting.
Listening.
Hoping.
To heal.
Honestly Austen 