A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Past

That’s the end.

I would make the same choice again. Even if time was still a concept out of my reach, I would not have changed that moment in the eternity I had to do so. Or so I believe. Must believe.

Because there is an end now.

It’s not gone, though. I had always thought they made choices, left them behind, left in what they call the past. It isn’t so. They carry their pasts around with them, dwell in them as much as we ever did, and now so do I.

Even if I wanted to, I cannot take it back.

A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Confusion

You know what your duty is? Words are feelings. The curiosity contains the meaning and there are no misunderstandings.

I do. And I do, I do, I did. Did. Because there is time in this place, and there is place in this time. All things are not one thing, all moments not one moment. I know my duty. I know my duty. I respond with truth. There are no lies.

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A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Question

When I awoke the next morning, the scent of smoke had been smoothed away by the rain. The fallen water eased the tension of the battle before. Guards on the walls joked with one another, using puddles of rain water to clean the soot and blood from their faces.

And here I thought my people had short memories.

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A Writer’s Book of Days Exercise: Ghosts

It was the scream that stayed with him. Through their escape, through Tishaani’s recovery, through his own pain, the scream echoed in his mind.

He wasn’t surprised to hear it again in his dreams, not given the source. That it was the thread that bound the all scenes together, the support on which all his night-time reflections hung, did disturb him, however. Continue reading