Dear lord oh mighty .... I am lost.
It has been three thousand five hundred and sixty five days since I have called home.
Insert dramatic hand to forehead.
Home ... but where is home.
Is a home the childhood home one grew up in or is home the place one legally owns?
Hmmmm
A question that I do not have the answer for.
I picked up my fork/blade/hair brush/occasional toothpick and started carving a line into the wall. I took great care, making sure to do it gently while holding my blade at an angle and pressing my other hand flat against the cold wall to keep it steady.
I looked proudly at my work and smiled. It was perfect; by far my best one this week.
Three thousand five hundred and sixty five days. It was no special day but it's always good to keep track.
You know what they say, every little thing helps in keeping the sane from going insane.
Does anyone say that?
(No)
Welll, they should. (Just saying)
Anyways ... what was I saying... home .. yes.
I'm currently far away from home or am I already home?
Hahahaha, silly me.
I can never really tell.
YOU ARE READING
Writing Prompts
RandomI enjoy reading and making up scenarios in my head. I just find it hard to put things to words. Here's to trying. Any feedback is much appreciated.
