Saturday, July 21, 2012

Saturday Morning

It is Saturday morning and I am headed to my writer prompt group. We toss out ideas, write about one for 15 minutes and read aloud if we wish. Sometimes people will pass on the reading. Not me. I will sip the host's coffee, scoff down whatever pastry is on the table, and be brilliant.
My prompts will be edgy, the writing entertaining, the response quite positive. Some will regard me with awe, or at least deep admiration. The two hours will fly by. It is a great way to begin a weekend. Sometimes I will give a lift to a young lady and I will impart some wisdom during the trip. She will nod occasionally and pretend to be listening, which is what young people do around me. I will glance in the rear view mirror, eye my turkey neck and sigh inwardly.
After we do three prompts, we'll chat for a bit. This is always bittersweet because we recognize we have created an island of civility in a mass killing world and that is concluding until another week has passed and we return, perhaps to another home. For me, this usually is the highlight of my weekend. Except I drink more coffee later on.

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