Tag Archives: Daily Prompt

The Locked Box


Today’s daily post prompt is an Audience of One – Simply to write a post or letter to the one person you wished was reading your blog right now. My contribution is below.

The Locked Box

I miss you.

I am a master at putting my feelings away in a little box and locking it up with an array of different locks and keys.

Why do I do this, you ask?

Because I miss you.

If I didn’t lock away my feelings, I might be reminded of the fact I will never get to hear your voice again.

I would know you weren’t going to show up for any holiday gatherings.

I would be forced to acknowledge the fact that your granddaughter only had a few short years with you.

I would be reminded that others I know, can still hug their mother close.

I would have to face the fact that I will never again feel your arms around me.

When I have news to share, I would know I couldn’t call you.

I would cry.

A lot.

So instead, I lock away those feelings. I keep them in a precious box that no one knows the combination to.

Because thinking of you is too painful.

Missing you tears me apart.

I feel raw and sad and lonely.

I love you, mom.

I miss you!

August Blues



I’ve been feeling a bit sorry for myself these past few weeks. And it really shows in the lack of writing I have done here on my blog or in my personal writings. So when I went out to check the daily prompt today and it was August Blues I thought it was a perfect time to pick myself up and shake myself off.

As a child, I was always excited and ready for the new school year to start. I was an eager learner. I soaked in everything I could and wanted to know more and more. When I played school with my best friend, I was always the student. Would it surprise you to know that today she is a Teacher? She got a lot of practice with me!

This year my daughter started Pre-K and I watch her run inside her class with hardly a glance back at me. A quick kiss and wave goodbye and she is on her way. She too is an eager learner. I look forward to all she will learn along the way. I look forward to helping her figure out what she wants out of life.

As a child, teenager, young adult I always knew I wanted to be either a writer or a marine biologist. I didn’t follow either of my dreams. My parents worked very hard to make a living for us and I saw the struggle they had each month, week, day with money. I decided when I graduated high school that it was silly to follow those dreams and possibly be broke all my life, like my parents. So, I went to school for business. I got a job as an office assistant. I worked my way up in the telecommunications field and my job today is analyzing numbers, data, financial information. It pays me well. I work from home. I should have no complaints.

And yet, my childhood dreams still linger. Twenty-Six years have passed since I graduated high school (giving away my age here!) and I still want to be a writer, I would still love to immerse myself in the ocean and learn about life below sea level. So a few years ago, I began to seriously write again. But this agent search is killing my mojo…. Sure the rejects have been kind and courteous but they have been rejects, still.

I reminded myself this morning that I have a job that pays and treats me well. My writing is for me. If someday an agent wants to represent me and start me on a new path, great. But today, the words I put on the page are not for future fame, they are to quell the voices in my head. To bring to life the worlds of the characters that need me to put their story on the page. I will keep writing because that childhood dream lives on strong.

But as for my daughter, who is just starting on this journey. I want to make sure to point her in the direction of her dreams. Not, in the direction she thinks she needs to take to make a living. Don’t get me wrong, the path I chose is what put me where I am today and I am grateful. However, I want my daughter to follow her dreams, whatever they may be. Find a way to incorporate her love of her hobby into her job and make a life that she enjoys every little tiny piece of.

August Blues? Sure sometimes I am blue, wishing I had started back my writing sooner or never quit at all. But like I said at the beginning of this post, I am going to pick myself up and shake myself off and keep writing, for me.  


Kid Classics! Funny Things Baby Girl has Said!


What perfect timing for a daily prompt of Uncanned Laughter!

Here are just a few of the things that she has said to make me smile lately.

  • An Xfinity commercial was on TV the other day and when it was over she yelled “XFINITY AND BEYOND!”
  • A few days after the start of her Pre-K:
    Me: “What did you learn at school today?”
    Her: “We didn’t… you know… do that learning stuff!”
  • Her daddy was helping her clean her room a while back and I kept hearing her say “No, Daddy that’s not where that goes.” Finally, she just screams, “Daddy, just don’t help me!”
  • Instead of “Eenie meanie miney mo, catch a tiger by his toe.” She sings “Eenie meanie miney mo, catch a money by his toe.”
  • She sings! “Nick Nack Paddy Wack, Nickel on the bone, this ole man came rolling home” 

Oh my, there are so many more things she says and does that brightens my day. But that is all I can think of for now!


Happy Monday!


And Yet I Always Knew



As I reach the closing pages of the book

 I find myself wanting

 Needing more

In the verses before me told the life of a sister

 I never knew I had

I had chosen to finish these pages with the sand between my toes

 Because it was my sister’s wish

It was still almost impossible to imagine

 And yet somehow I always knew

I always felt something was missing

A part of me

It wasn’t until she passed away

And the journal found its way to me

That I felt whole

It sounds odd to feel whole after the death of someone

And yet

 That is what I am now

 I am whole

 In my hand I hold the life stories of my twin

And someday

 We will meet again

This is in response to The Daily Post Prompt: Edge of the Frame – We often capture strangers in photos we take in public. Open your photo library, and stop at the first picture that features a person you don’t know. Now tell the story of that person.

Unlikely Pairing


Unlikely Pairing

Bacon and chocolate, caramel and cheddar… Is there an unorthodox food pairing you really enjoy? Share with us the weirdest combo you’re willing to admit that you like — and how you discovered it. – This is a WordPress Daily Prompt.

I have a few of these –

Some not so bad, like pouring orange juice on my pancakes. Or dipping potato chips in my ice cream.

Some middle of the road, such as a peanut butter, potato chip, banana and mayo sandwich. – All ingredients go on the sandwich. Mayo and banana on one side of the bread and Peanut butter and potato chips on the other side.

And then some, that at times makes me wonder, like pickled okra and frosted mini wheat’s.

A lot of these came from my mom, I just copied what she did and somehow they stuck around. As for the Pickled Okra and Frosted Mini Wheat’s – I don’t know where that one came from but it is yummy.

The really strange thing is, I didn’t have one silly craving during my entire pregnancy!


Sudden Downpour: A Mirror in Time


The Daily Prompt: Sudden Downpour

It was sunny when you left home, so you didn’t take an umbrella. An hour later, you’re caught in a torrential downpour. You run into the first store you can find — it happens to be a dark, slightly shabby antique store, full of old artifacts, books, and dust. The shop’s ancient proprietor walks out of the back room to greet you. Tell us what happens next! — My contribution is written below!


The old woman walked straight towards me with small object in her hand.

“Olivia, I am sorry to keep you waiting.” How did she know my name?

“Excuse me?” The woman had river lines through her face and eyes; she looked like she was a few hundred years old. Her hands were small and frail with loose skin barely covering the bone; she walked with a slightly slumped stoop. I had never seen her before in my life.

“I have the piece you were looking for.” She replied, as if we had been talking for hours.

“But… I just walked in the door.” I wanted to tell her I simply needed a place to wait out the storm, but she interrupted me.

“Oh, don’t be silly, child.” Her voice crackled and croaked out the words. “Here, take it.” She pushed the small object into my hand and I could see it was an old hinged trinket box. “Go on now, open it,” she urged.

I am not sure why I played along with her silly charade but I opened the small box and inside was a ring. It was identical to the one I wore on my right hand. I glanced quickly to my hand and the ring was not there. “How did you get my ring?” I was a little angry; I didn’t much like parlor tricks.

She looked at me, “Child, that ring has not become yours yet.”

This was getting old, “This is my ring. I had it on moments ago when I walked through your door. My fiancé gave me this ring just a few days ago.”

She laughed a small laugh. “Look, my child.” She pointed into a dark corner of the shop where an antique full length mirror stood on wooden legs.

I looked in the mirror and when I did, I could hardly believe my eyes. The woman in the mirror wasn’t me. As I walked closer I realized it was me, only decade’s maybe centuries ago. The woman in the mirror was dressed in century old clothing and she had long blond hair in curly ringlets. I kept my curls cut short and flat ironed. She wore no make-up, but a long dress that touched the ground and push up bodice. I reached up and felt my short locks, but the woman in the mirror felt her long blond curls.

The shop keeper in the mirror was a young spry woman who stood tall and watched from behind me. I turned around to look at her and she was the same old frail woman I had met when I walked in the room.

“I don’t understand.”

She walked up behind me and placed a frail hand on my shoulder and turned my head to face the mirror again. I watched the young shop keeper talk to the other me. “This ring will bring you great love, but it will also bring you great heartbreak. You must decide now if you will take the heartache to have the love.”

“What kind of heartache?”

She shook her head behind me, “My child, I can’t tell you the details. I only can tell you that you have a choice. You can choose to live your life without love and without heartache or you can choose the ring and receive both.”

I looked at the woman in the mirror, the other version of me. She looked sad, there was something in her eyes that was missing but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. I was begging the other me to give me an answer.

The shopkeeper spoke from behind me, “She can’t tell you what to do. She already had her choice and took it.”

I didn’t want my eyes to take on the sad look of the past me, “What did she choose?”

“I can’t tell you that either, my dear.”

“I simply came in here for a dry place to wait out the storm. What is going on?”

“What storm?” she asked me.

I turned around and looked out the window. The sun was shining bright; there was no rain pouring, no wet sidewalks or dripping cars, no indication that it had rained in quite a while.

“I wish we would get a storm,” she continued, “this drought is going to kill us.”

What in the world was happening to me?

“It’s time child.” She turned me away from the mirror and back to face her and the small box that held my ring. “What is your choice?”


Would I be a fly on the wall of your mind?


Would I be a fly on the wall of your mind?

Eavesdropping on your thoughts

Unable to alter the course you’re plotting

Would I want the responsibility it held?

Would I still be able to hear my own thoughts?

No, I’ll travel the road of unawareness

I’ll keep the sanity within my own mind

I’ll leave your thoughts alone

A sacred room for only you

© S. Tennyson Taylor

In response to The Daily Post: Full Disclosure Prompt

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