10 MINUTE WRITING BURST-MISTY

NOTE:  I want you to know that this is semi-fiction.  I was just writing this as an exercise.  I am now reading through some creative writing tips online.   

One thing is certain though, this one is so me. 

In my notepad, I wrote without editing.  Therefore, this version is now edited (as best I could being a baby creative wanna-be).

Perhaps, as I go on, I will make my Fridays' post a creative writing burst Friday.  Who knows, I could improve with practice.  Oh no, I am not wishing to be a commissioned published writer.

Thanks for coming to my first 10 Minute Writing Burst entitled Misty.

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PHOTO SOURCE

The frost in my heart mingles with the whizzing of the wiper on the windshield.  We are driving through the downpour in cosmopolitan afternoon.

Silent in my seat, my thoughts went to the season of make-believe.  I hunger for the moments less tinted by many woes and regrets.

What if this was so and that was not?

Would it have been better?

I shift on the bucket seat at a stop light.  Still immersed in my own reverie, I feel him gaze at me.  Perhaps he is wondering at my silence.  Is it a welcome treat or a wished for space?

What is it about the rain that makes me feel gloomy and expectant at the same time?

PHOTO SOURCE

The light goes Red.  I am staring at the wiper.  It goes back and forth, left, right, left, right, like a parody of my own self-doubt and confidence.  It goes on and on, making me dwell in my thoughts even more. Now it hisses, "ugly, ugly, unlovable, unlovable, that's what you are!"

The mist on the windshield gathers and the sight makes me want to cry.  Some void in my chest wants to creep up.  What is it then?  I can not point a finger at where the melancholy lies.

PHOTO SOURCE

“Down the gray street, faceless people, under black umbrellas, roll by with the familiar scenery.” Some are in raincoats dripping on corners, waiting for their light.  I feel like inside one with the grayest color tagged despair.  When will the rain inside stop?  Will it hurt to strip of them?

The miles are eaten up at minimum speed.

EDITED

He reaches out for my hand then squeezes it.  Before reclaiming the steering wheel, he places the now semi-frozen hand upon his right thigh.  His warmth traveled swiftly to my equally freezing heart.  There is a little jolt as I begin melting down.  Like ice cream on a sunny day?

Like a child, given a delightful treat, my lips curves up a bit.

Why does doubt crawl unbidden?

"There is nothing to doubt because I am greater than anything and you are special to me," the still small voice whispers.  I know that, Lord! 

Why then, are there times gloomy tries to find space in my heart and even in my mind.  Ah, misty evenings.  Perhaps, they render those.

I snuggle closer to his side.  I give out a little sigh.

I am not perfect, he too isn’t.  But God is.  He will perfect us when the time comes.

The gate looms closer and home is warm in my heart, cozy in my mind.

I think of Misty.  I hope he doesn't come back.The thought makes me shudder, I feel like a traitor.

Nothing else should dwell in my heart and in my mind.  Only His promises.

Joshua 24:19

Then Joshua warned the people, "You are not able to serve the LORD, for he is a holy and jealous God. He will not forgive your rebellion and your sins.

Was I making an idol out of feeling inadequate?

I AM LINKING WITH:

Pam @ Writing Apples of Gold

CLICK HERE

and

Shelley @ Redemption's Beauty 

CLICK HERE

I’m joining Michelle today for Graceful Summer, even though our summers in the Orient often are spent with rain and storms.