A while back I wrote a prompt about how much I hate looking at a blank page. I have to jump in and write something, just so it's not blank anymore. The positive side of that is that I get something done. The downside of that is that sometimes what lands on the page ... is seriously terrible.
If you've been following my blog, I'm sure you've seen examples of that. I can't say I love every one of the posts I've written (and posted for the world to see ... what am I thinking?!!!). What keeps me going are those magic moments when it really works, and the idea that was just a little spark starts growing in my mind and unfurling into something greater.
Your mission for this week, should you choose to accept it, is to read one of my previous responses ... not a previous prompt ... and use that as your prompt.
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My response:
I'm going to use one from just a few weeks ago, the one about the girl and the Lynad stone.
My neck ached from bending to read, and my rear was sore from sitting. Aside from Dr. Malard's ministering, the most exciting thing to happen all day was the arc of sunlight crossing the tiled floor. It had been nice for the first hour or two. Then I started hoping someone would drop in, maybe bring me a different book. Isn't that how it worked in Harry Potter novels? Someone got themselves injured, and all their friends bought them treats in the hospital? I would kill for a bag of jelly beans, even the generic brand would do at this point, though I wouldn't turn down Jelly Bellies, either.
My ribs were still sore, but I had a sneaking suspicion they weren't the reason I was still in here. After all, they did have the well-being of the other students to worry about, and I had, just yesterday, almost caused the death of half of the student body. On purpose. Maybe this was less of a sick stay and more of a prison. At least, that's what I had decided when Lady Elda stepped through the door.
She was older than I remembered her, spots of gray at her temples and the crinkles by her eyes were deeper. She offered me a sad smile. "How are you today, Diane? I'm sorry I couldn't come by earlier. I had ..." Her eyes met mine, and she stopped. We both knew she'd been cleaning up my mess.
"It's okay. I know you've been ..." I couldn't maintain eye contact. Guilt strangled my voice down. "Busy."
She nodded briskly. "Yes, and I still do. But I had something else that's also important, and I didn't want to leave you waiting any longer than I had to."
I struggled to meet her gaze again, but she went on. "I've explained last night's events to the board, and they've decided to give you a second chance. There will be consequences, of course, but I think you'll agree I've compelled them to be reasonable. In the meantime, I needed to return something to you."
My stone of Lynad lay in her palm, dark and lifeless. I couldn't feel its pulsing power while it was in her possession, but my soul remembered it and longed to reach out and take it. It took a minute before I realized that was exactly what she wanted me to do.
"Oh, Lady Elda. I couldn't!" I tucked my knees up underneath me, my arms squeezing them tightly to my chest. "You saw what I almost did!"
Lady Elda laughed. "Diane, the stone is not a weapon. It is a tool. And what you almost did doesn't matter anymore, because, in the end, you made a different choice ... a good choice. And I trust you to use this as you should, from now on." She sank down onto the mattress at my feet, tracing the lines in the stone with her fingertips.
"You see, it's true the stones choose their masters. When I was a girl, this stone belonged to my great-aunt. From the first moment I touched it, it stopped working for her. It became mine. I was a lot like you, back then, and I had a lot to learn. The stone helped me." She looked up, and her eyes pierced my soul. "I knew from the first moment you touched my stone that it wasn't mine anymore. Maybe if I'd been honest with you, helped you then, you wouldn't have had such a hard time finding your way. So, you see, I feel a little responsible for what happened, too."
I shook my head, but I couldn't speak to object. Lady Elda took my hand in hers and dropped the stone into my palm. It flared to life, it's aura erupting and embracing my own. It felt warm and right. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. Then I looked up at Lady Elda. If the stone once belonged to her the way it belonged to me now, giving it up must be breaking her heart.
For one brief moment, our eyes met, and I knew we understood each other. Then she stood and swept out of the room, leaving me complete.
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