Trying to catch up on several weeks’ worth of e-mail, I was struck by the latest Flash Fiction Challenge at Carrot Ranch. Charli Mills’ introduction provided a jumping-off point for me today, even if it ain’t flash fiction.
The privilege of a lifetime
I want to be that woman bold enough to wear buttons
as a necklace, who can look cool
on a hot summer day. We all want our characters
to be heroes. Like others hit by disaster
before us, we know the word strong but dance
around the word hero. We all resonate
to the journey, the cave, the return, the elixir of hope —
just not the label. We all deny the call.
The hero’s journey is messy: uncomfortable moments
and difficult seasons, a tadpole
in a ray of sunlight. It’s like birth. It’s like death.
We know it can never be the same.
Button up.
Late on the evening of the previous post, I ran afoul of some uneven sidewalk while out with the dog. I took a tumble, but thank the stars it was dark (no witnesses) and I got away with nothing more than a skinned knee and a sprained hand. I’ve been sidelined for almost two weeks because it was my dominant hand, but have gingerly started working back into more normal activity.
The Daily Compost 