I did a fun little writing exercise where I came up with the first lines of stories. They may or may not develop into actual stories, but I really enjoyed doing this.
Being my mother’s daughter has resulted in acquired sleuthing skills over the years. There was always a need to figure out what really happened, as her take on the most mundane of events changed dramatically on a dime.
For much of my life I’ve felt the need to have a back-up plan.
My mother saved her happiness for other things.
I was a sorry girl the day my grandpa decided to talk to me about sex.
I picked up the crumbs of advice my uncles dropped like a hungry baby bird.
When I was little I took great pleasure in counting and ordering things. This included everything from books to records to boogers.