Last Monday was the last workshop session. Bookended between prompts, we filled out an extensive feedback form and then after the break, Robyn passed out copies of the broadsheet — the mini-poster thing that includes a submission from everyone in the session — and then we all signed them in yearbook fashion, round robin style. Lots of fun, and just like the last day of school, except these were all good and talented writers so none of that “stay cool!” nonsense. We also received a regular copy of the broadsheet, as well as copy of their anthology from last year. Reading through it is both inspiring and humbling, both in the very best ways. What an amazing gift this program is to its participants, and in turn to our community.
The first prompt was a warm-up, but we had a little longer than usual — 7 minutes.
Prompts: trust me most of all
“Trust me,” he said, holding out his hand, that mischievous twinkle in his eye almost daring her not to.
This is one of those moments that you read about in books, she thought to herself. The part where it says, ‘little did she know…’
The question was…was her story a tale of grand adventure? Perhaps with a smidge of romance, that happily ever after? Or with this story a tragedy, and this moment the beginning of the end? The literal turning point?
She pondered while he waited, hand still outstretched, and finally said….
Our final prompt was an 8 minute write
Prompts: in this circle the last night
The last night, the house was mostly dark and quiet. No lights, because lights intimate happiness, contentment, and we were neither of those things. Quiet, because what do you say when your family of four is about to become a family of three?
Three and one, really, since sometimes it would be my brother and I and one of them at one place, then my brother and I and the other of them at the other place. More like two and one and one and that makes four. It’s how my brother learned addition and subtraction.
I learned multiplication and division. Multiplication of homes, of beds, of toasters and TV sets and favorite mugs. And later, of family members. Division of mine, of yours, of theirs.
But never ours again.