General

Image: by Salvador Dali

Looking inside yourself is fraught with danger. If you are honest you see a whole bunch of stuff you may not be all that keen to acknowledge.

No matter how much you wish for it, the sun does not shine out your bum, and to most people, you are an anonymous face in the crowd.

When I think about it, I have lived a pretty stupid life. Made some shocking life choices always believing I could control what I was getting into and then discovering I had no idea of what I was doing and my partners knew that too.

The result of that was a whole lot of misery and conflict.

It was doubly dumb on my part as I had no idea I was inflicting pain on the people I thought I loved and cared for.

It turned out I was a source of…

I
look
inwards
hoping to
discover myself
dismayed to find my universe
illuminated
by grudging
moon held
in
sway

In response toReena’s Exploration Challenge #Week 26

For this challenge I want you to examine one of your core beliefs. Some possible examples “Man is basically good.” “No one will ever love me.” “We grow through adversity.” “Everything I do is pointless I am just going to fail anyways. ” It is better to be kind than right.” You can illustrate this belief in a poem or story or you can tackle it in a psychological/spiritual discussion. If you choose to go the discussion route please include how this belief has benefitted or hindered you. If it hinders you consider a healthy/alternative perspective. Do you know where this belief originated?

five years of practice.

my mind finally still

enlightenment finds me

but my heart remains sad

For In Other Words

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The next photo is the PROMPT. Remember, all photos are property of the photographer, donated for use in Friday Fictioneers only. They shouldn’t be used for any other purpose without express permission. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor credit. 

PHOTO PROMPT © Marie Gail Stratford

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Genre: Historical Fiction

Word Count: 100

ABIGAIL’S ROSE

            Weary from tending her feverish child, she sank into her rocking chair. The baby, who had howled with pain most of the night, finally calmed. Abigail Adams caressed her daughter’s silky head and kissed her cool cheek.

            “Sleep, now, my sweet Suky.”

            Suky’s four-year-old sister tiptoed into the room. Abigail stopped rocking and held out a hand to her. “Can you not sleep, Nabby?”

            “I dreamt the angels plucked a rose from our garden.” Nabby patted the baby’s back. “Is she feeling better…