Writing is almost a form of meditation to me. When I feel my body start to tense or my muscles refuse to relax I know I have gone too long without putting pen to paper.
Writing prompts have been a wonderful source of creativity for me. It’s just a small push, and nudge in the right direction. Just something to get me started, and let my creative juices start to flow.
For the last year I have been posting writing prompts on my blog, and this past week one of my Twitter followers The Good Witch emailed me a short story she had written from one of my prompts.
I’d like to share with all of you now.
The air quickly left his lungs after hearing the truth. How could his father have lied to him all these years? How could he now reveal his true identity of being the man who raised him but not the man who gave him life? His lungs desperately tried to inhale but the weight of the situation left him drowning in air. His body felt heavy and just to lift his hand up to cover his mouth was as if he were stuck in a rip tide. He couldn’t control anything around him. He couldn’t move his legs in order to run away for they felt as if they were buried in cement. He could hear his heart beating in his ears and his throat closing up if only to prevent him from vomiting after the initial shock.
His eyes filled with tears as he closed them. How could this be the truth of his world? Everything he knew from before came crashing down. Now all he could feel was his body floating and drifting deeper and deeper down in a sea of air that consumed him.