welcome readers & writers. it's wednesday and i'm thinking there's a good reason wednesday is called hump day (and it's not a naughty reason either). sometimes weeks are long. sometimes days, hours and even minutes seem endless. maybe hanging out on the blog a bit today to read or write is a good way to find the downhill side of the mountain - or at least a bit of a shelter. several of my friends are suffering through rough times, and the phrase "life can turn on a dime" keeps drifting through my mind.
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the photo prompts i've shared so far are pictures of scenes or objects i stumbled upon in the course of a day. for today's photo prompt, however, i felt the need to photograph a spinning dime. it took a few (47) tries to capture the photo - and it only turned out in the end because my eight year old proves to be a dime spinning expert. but here it is - the turning dime. what's your spin on it? (pun intended). here's mine:
Some sit as if perfect posture might earn them a free pass out of the group. Some slouch like they're lounging on a college green. Others lean forward - heads down - cradling cups of coffee like eucharistic wafers. One twists a napkin around her finger over and again, while another gnaws on a hangnail. Carl over there bounces his foot maniacally. All that stuff happens when someone is sharing. Between sharing, every last one of them grows still and listens hard for the next words. Lamentation, confession, plea, or proverb, they pray that just maybe the right combination of words will end the pain that buzzes in their heads, their bellies, in that narrow space between loosely clasped palms.
"Did he suffer? Was she scared? Why now?"
"There was a day when loyalty in the workplace meant something, when a good person who did good work could hang on to a job forever..."
"Malignant. I hate that word. I hate that word so much I could spit..."
"She said she'd never leave. I feel like I'm going insane..."
But mostly there is silence, and the young therapist (correction, support group facilitator - we must empower people to heal themselves) is also thinking. In fact since taking the job all he can do is think. Just now he picks at his eyebrow, obsessed with the growing realization that no one escapes being part of the group, that it's just a matter of time.
come write with me today! 250(ish) words or less. submit your story, poem or creative non-fiction work by clicking on comments below.
