Writing down the Bones

Bewildered. Who could’ve guessed the emotional Pandora’s Box a simple word could unearth. 

Initially, when I read today’s one word prompt, I was delighted. “Now there’s a word I can work with.” It appeared almost too easy.  The most difficult part would be sifting through the infinite possibilities for the raw stone of inspiration that I could cut, polish and expose the brilliance of its facets. I was unprepared for the bones.

Bewildered is a child caught In the tempest of adults; a girls first broken heart and every one to follow. Bewildered stands at the casket of loved ones gone too soon; inhabits the heart of a mother as her child leaves home, and the eyes of a once young woman staring at her grandmother face in the mirror.

Who could’ve guessed Pandora’s Box, full of the bones of my own bewilderment, lay so near the surface but this is what we do as writers isn’t it? We unearth the things that others bury… We’re ever writing down the bones.

COPYRIGHT ALERT
©Laura M. Bailey, All the shoes I wear & writing down the Bones, 1990–Present. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Laura M. Bailey with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

via Bewildered

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10 comments

  1. Bewildering hearts form in clouds and flap the day, riding on wings of song birds, eagles, and vultures, on butterflies that build the storms, some with thunder, some with pitter-patter and some with nourishment.

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