Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Recycled Present

Laughing to myself, I think to myself of where I once was and where I am now. Time passed, and I survived, I thrived... after a good relationship gone burnt, to the dust... burnt and broken how it is meant to be. Reminiscent of broken promises, future engagements and differed dreams burning up in the sky, pictures pf the past. Let go... freely flying smoldering ash, Ashe, being recycled.

I see them, burning, bonds broken, open the way to something better, something new. I smile, moving into the present, into something with someone, better equipped than before with memories. An accumulated past, in the present, my guiding star...

If she is, I am. I am am, she is.

He image reminds me... renews me, of what I am... who we are... what we can do.
Her voice, silk tones melting my harden behavior, my tough demeanor. We reach out to hold hands, her hand is my hand, she is me.

She smiles, I smile. Gaze holding gaze.

So much time has passed since I last saw her, felt her.
Real, soft lips, silky voice laced with wisdom, with a buried passion and such a tomboy... love it.
She knows it. She feels it. Pull her close. Hold her. Kiss. Embrace.

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