For the Boy

Will you take the whisper
I put upon your ear
And carry it forever
As something that was dear

Or will you disregard it
And forget the love it meant
Then wonder someday later
Where all the memories went

Grains of Sand

So this week, we want you to write about sand.


"Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives"

This is the opening line of a soap opera I've never watched. But I love the line.  

I was enchanted with hourglasses when I was young. Watching the sand gently flow from top to bottom. It seemed to take a long time to build below. The grains bouncing on the empty glass.  Yet, as more sand flowed, the faster the top emptied.  A hill mounding, the grains of sand rolling down the sides.  Then suddenly, the last grain falls. Time has run out. 

Life is much like that. The first years, baby steps and potty training and losing baby teeth, barely cover the bottom. The memories bouncing about like a toddler's attention. 

Moving into teens and young adulthood, a hill begins to form. A woman begins grow.   Making choices, climbing uphill, sliding down. Climbing again. 

As the years pass, the sands flow quickly. I've reached that place where the bottom of the hourglass holds more than the top. The sand slipping away at an alarming pace.  I wouldn't want to return to the beginning, but if I could just turn the glass now, gain a little more sand.  A little more life. I still have so much to do. 

What will be left when the last grain falls?  A legacy of accomplishments? Or just a pile of sand?  

No Special Path

The prompt:Aaah...jealousy. We all have it. We all feel it.

And now we'd like you to write about it. We'll leave it open: you can write about something or someone you envy, or a time when your jealousy got you in trouble, or maybe how it makes you feel to be envious. Whatever you want.

And it can be fiction or non-fiction. Word limit is 600.



Mommy had given him hugs and told him he was special. She'd tucked him in tight and kissed him good night.

Then she left to find Barry and bring him home. Because, Barry really was special. Barry could hear Mommy when she was away. Barry could make the air move like Mommy did. Barry was special, like Mommy.

Darren couldn't do those things. He was just Darren, not special. So, Mommy put him to bed and went to find Barry.

Darren crawled out of bed and went to Barry's room. Mommy had given Barry some pinwheels to practice making the air move them. Darren stared at them, waved his arms like he'd seen his brother do. Nothing happened, they didn't even wiggle. He wasn't special at all.

He'd make them move anyway!  Swinging his arms wildly, he knocked them all to the floor. Then kicked them, making some of them come apart.

"Darren? Are you in bed?" He heard Daddy coming to the stairs. He shoved the broken toys under Barry's bed and scurried back to his room.

He was under the covers when Daddy checked on him, "Hey, buddy, you ok?," Daddy ruffled his his hair.  "It's not your fault Darren."

"I know Daddy. Is Mommy home yet?"

"No, buddy, she'll be back when she finds your brother"

"What if she can't find him, Daddy?"

Daddy gave him a hug and kissed the top of his head, "she'll find him," Daddy tucked the covers back around him. As he was leaving, Darren heard him whisper, "She has to."

Darren's tears fell quietly on his pillow. Because Daddy thought Barry was more special, too.



This is after Beth/Lyabet leaves to reclaim her youngest son. You can read about that here: http://elsetimeandotherwhen.blogspot.com/2011/04/another-path.html