I'm amazed at how much people can write, and coherently, too, in five minutes!
I didn't type a single letter until my timer had already zipped off over a minute and a half. A time-limit like that seems to stymie my creative flow. (Heaven knows I'm never normally short of words!)
But distance is a constant theme in my life, with my family and roots nearly a thousand miles away, my husband driving an hour and a half each way to work and back, and oh, then there's this graceless, toxic grey distance in which I encrust myself when the sunshine-and-shadow-play of human vulnerability lays me too bare for a day.
So I wanted to open the tap on distance and see what might begin to trickle out.
the distance between two souls is elastic.
my bosom-friends live across the ocean and across the river and across the country, but stay as close as a pillow to an ear, and wrap around my life like the softest blanket.
and here, practically in my pocket, women live their lives and carry their burdens and laugh and love in the next rooms over, yet remain far away as diamond stars.