July Writing Challenge: Day One (what do you mean it isn't July 1st anymore?!)
July Ist's prompt was 'the story of your life in 250 words or less', and more information about the challenge can be found here.
Born in a little port town, the smell of the cool air and pine trees stuck with me. After that, a nomadic life, from the big city to the hamlet surrounded by scrub brush, living with the restless itch of a soul infected by wanderlust. A quiet existence broken only by the shouts of parents at night. Lots of books, secondhand paperbacks because hardcovers are unthinkably expensive, bookshelves made out of milkcrates and cardboard boxes always ready to be filled with other possessions. Music a companion through the times when books were too much, singing and absorbing, using lines as armor. And then high school, a year away with family and goats, then a year of hell, and two years of discovering how to express things. Transitioning from 'robot' said so mockingly to 'vulcan' in a fond tone, learning how to smile. Now, preparing to jump off of a precipice to go bury myself in ancient texts and myths, wondering if the fall can be survived or if it will prove to be fatal. Constantly considering abandoning everything and going away to learn and live in that little port town.
Born in a little port town, the smell of the cool air and pine trees stuck with me. After that, a nomadic life, from the big city to the hamlet surrounded by scrub brush, living with the restless itch of a soul infected by wanderlust. A quiet existence broken only by the shouts of parents at night. Lots of books, secondhand paperbacks because hardcovers are unthinkably expensive, bookshelves made out of milkcrates and cardboard boxes always ready to be filled with other possessions. Music a companion through the times when books were too much, singing and absorbing, using lines as armor. And then high school, a year away with family and goats, then a year of hell, and two years of discovering how to express things. Transitioning from 'robot' said so mockingly to 'vulcan' in a fond tone, learning how to smile. Now, preparing to jump off of a precipice to go bury myself in ancient texts and myths, wondering if the fall can be survived or if it will prove to be fatal. Constantly considering abandoning everything and going away to learn and live in that little port town.