Tag Archives: Daily Prompt

Daily Prompt ~ ‘Restart’.

Daily Prompt: Restart

You think it is not possible, because your mind has crowded out the possibilities.

How familiar have you grown to the familiar, the known?

Deeply etched tracks threaten to derail you.

Your engines are failing as the station ahead signals ‘Burnout’ and ‘Breakdown’.

As you hurtle past, a helpless commuter of your own life, weary, older than your frown, you catch the glimpse of an enthusiastic wave from the little hand of one transfixed, mesmerised, inspired, standing at the station platform.

Sunlight flashes in your eyes, a spark, a memory, of the familiar, the seen before

The scene before.

Who was that curious soul, young, knowing, familiar, unknown.

Was it, Is it YOU?

A sudden halt,

The threatening shudder

Of breakdown

Engine failure


You think.

Yet, in the blink of an eye,

The train rewinds,

The child at the station, inspired,

Redirects the tracks,

Points you in the direction of new thoughts,

New horizons

Destinations with

New names






‘Positive Thoughts’








The train slips onto new tracks,

You are the driver and not the passenger

Of your life.

A sharp inhale, anticipation of the adventure,

You put your hand to the control,

Look up into the bright cloudless sky,

Put your Trust and Hope in that which is Greater,

Far Greater than those old, lost forgotten thoughts,

You envisage your destination,


And begin life!


Daily Prompt ~ ‘Dim’

Inspired by the Daily Prompt word ‘dim’

I braced myself against the chill wind. I had to stop intermittently to remove hard packed chunks of snow from my boots. The snow, which I thought would simply melt from the pressure of walking, didn’t, and so the unexpected pain and nuisance slowed down what would otherwise have been a romanticised walk. 

I tried to leave a little extra time in the morning for my journey, but alas when I got to the small train station under the bridge I instantly noticed that the barrier ticket gates were all marked with red crosses. No green tick for me to pass this way today. The man at the kiosk tapped on the glass and beckoned me over. ‘Everything’s off’ he said, and apologetically indicated that there *might* be some busses going where I was headed, but he couldn’t be sure. He knew my weekly workplace destination, or at least the train stop that I travelled to, and I knew him by face, but we didn’t know each other’s names. Perhaps this was strange, but I was shy with strangers, and perhaps overly focused on my journey to work in the mornings to be able to think of much to say. I thanked him, and we exchanged goodbyes as I made my way back out into the cold. 

Everything was slower. Pedestrians walked more deliberately yet confidently through the mounds of brown white snow as they crossed roads, knowing that the cars, busses, lorries and other vehicles were merely crawling along as their drivers struggled to grip the road. The water beckoned to me. Normally I would panic, or at least give way to a measure of anxious thoughts and imaginings, but I had worked hard to get to this point, and I was proud of myself. What could I do after all? It is what it is, and everyone else was in the same position. There were no taxis at the taxi rank, and I couldn’t see any buses that were going my way, and even if there had been one or two eastward bound, I was sure that they would take so much longer than if I were to walk, and after all I had left myself an extra 10 minutes, so I might make it near enough on time. I had left my phone at work, and so I did not know what time it was, but I had a rough idea. And so the decision was made. I smiled as I watched tufts of snow fall and hang heavy from fir trees outside the hotel. This will be a beautiful walk, I told myself. Almost romantic – a time to enjoy the beauty of the inclement weather, time to think and to commune with the Creator of earth’s fascinating beauties as I went. 

And so I made my way to the riverside, leaving between me and the river a breaker of trees that did perhaps a little to shield me from the wind and the intermittent petals of snow blowing into my face and mouth. Clumps of snow gathered starkly against my dark hair, and with gloved fingers I brushed them down and picked out the clumps of cold white residue. 

Despite the resistance of the walk, I knew in my heart that I had made the right choice, for it was beautiful. Birds flew, unperturbed over the river, and a soft hazy sunlight dimly graced a picture postcard morning scene of white on green as the trees hung heavy, an almost untouched blanket of white covering the grass, and couples and friends taking pictures, throwing snowballs or holding hands as they walked. I delighted in the beauty of the morning and the gift that it was to experience this unfolding day, even as I trudged through the city, crossing roads, and on past the park. 

How much time had passed, I wondered, feeling like time itself had melted away. Perhaps half an hour, and hour, or two, who knew? I hoped that I would not be late. As I made my way tentatively and yet with an enchantment in my childlike heart, through the snow white covered park, I noticed school children laughing, trying to run, while others lay on the ground making ‘snow angels’. I could not see the path, but I knew that it wouldn’t be long until I reached my destination. As I passed through the park and back into the main streets I saw the clock tower in the distance, dimly as white flakes passed in front of my eyes, and as the brightness of the sun on pure white reflected back up at me. It was ten past the hour. Almost right on time, I thought. It was ok that I could not see the whole path, as long as I could see where to place my next step. I pressed on determinedly, with just a short way left to go. It had been a beautiful morning, despite the effort. A snow white beautiful morning, and a calm before the afternoon’s forecast storm. 

Daily Prompt ~ ‘Continue’

Continue – Daily Prompt

All content copyright, ‘Life as it happens to be’. 

I cannot continue with life as it was, having crossed borders and countries that have opened up new vistas in my mind. Having spent the past couple of weeks travelling through Europe, I find that returning ‘home’ life seems to just continue on as normal, as if nothing had changed. And yet, as every traveller knows, you, have changed. If one thing must continue it shall be the adventure, the thirst for not only knowledge, but real, vibrant and true experience, and to continue in Wanderlust is in a sense, to live…

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Daily Prompt – ‘Grit’: A Word Game Today

Daily Prompt ~ ‘Grit’

I usually approach the daily prompts from a creative writing perspective, however, the word ‘grit’ seems to have pushed a playful button in me, so I’m going to veer from the well trod path and play a word association game, and I have no idea how it will go…so, come and join me wordsmiths! 🙂

  • Grit
  • and determination
  • to get this sand out of my shoe
  • I rub my gritty eyes to help me see more clearly
  • As they grit the road
  • It seems to be snowing
  • Shall we just stay at home and watch that gritty new drama?
  • It makes me grit my teeth
  • And it sounds like my shoes on a gritty gravel path
  • Here I am once more with grit and determination trying to get this sand out of my shoe!

Grit – Grain – Sand – Beach – Waves – Water – Sea – Boat – Travel – Journey – Voyage – Ship – Map – Compass – Treasure – Gold Doubloons – Pirates – Eye Patch – Sight – Vision – Binoculars – View – See – Eyes – Features – Face – Person – Head – Shoulders – Knees – Toes – Body – Mind – Think – Feel – Love – Desire – Want – Obtain – Give – Kindness – Character – Determination – Grit! 🙂



Daily Post ~ Dash

Daily Post ~ ‘Dash’

That one short phrase left me paralysed. I saw him emerge from the trees, at quite a distance, before (I hope) he had the chance to see me. I knew him. His stature, his gait, the way he was so absorbed in his music as he jogged through the park alongside the river, catching the breeze. It was freedom to him. His solitary pursuit, and he felt free. I could see it. I knew it. I knew him.

My face burned red as the gap between us gradually began to close. I worried that if or when he saw me he would think that I was a cliché, or a character of my own making, rather than me. My camera hung around my neck, and I fumbled with the pen and notebook in my hand. I had come here to slow down, to walk at the river’s gentle pace, to capture moments too inspiring to miss, that most of us sadly, in too much of a hurry through life, did miss. I was here to think, to ponder, but most of all, to write. This was my freedom. Did that ever really matter to him? Did he ever know me the way I knew him?

He was in his zone. I wanted to be invisible just to give me time enough to compose myself, to figure out what to do or what to say. I took a deep breath. Invisible or not, I would never be ready for this.

He spotted me. He raised his arm slightly in a friendly wave, and I could see him begin to slow his pace, turn his music down, and switch gears. He was always so much better at doing that than me. He could hide the way he felt so much more easily, and that frustrated me. Not that he could appear calm and composed, but that I could not, no matter how hard I tried. Surely he would be able to see right through me, my feigned calm, cool demeanour, to see that inside I was terribly flustered….and afraid. Part of me wanted to be an unfathomable mystery to him, composed, stoic, in complete control. Another part of me wanted him to see me just how I was, and in that to see how much he, how much all of this really meant to me, and in turn to care as much as I did. I wondered if he could.

The distance between us grew shorter and shorter, and then in a breath, he was there before me, hunched over, his hands resting on his knees, his dark hair flopping over his face, as he paused to regain his breath. As he straightened up, his smile disarmed me. He gestured that he would have hugged me but then pointed to himself and his shirt damp with sweat, as if to save me from the discomfort. I smiled, nervously. He was charming as ever, gentle, kind in the questions he asked. He did seem to focus on me, to show a genuine interest in what I was doing. The familiarity seemed to comfort us both. I could see what I couldn’t see in him before, or what I was too hurt to see, what perhaps he was trying to hide. He did care. He did see me.

For some precious moments it seemed as if time had stopped, and if nothing at all had changed between us. As we reconnected, I gently began to ask him about how he was, what was going on in his life, how he was doing. I had never seen him flustered before like this. He wiped his brow, laughed nervously, trying to hide his hurt, trying to protect himself in a way that I sensed he still wanted me to protect him from himself. Somehow, unwittingly, I had disarmed him.

He laughed again, that charming, genuine laugh, and shook it off. And then he said it. ‘It’s been so great to see you, but you know’, he paused gesturing to his sports watch, ‘I’ve really got to dash’.

I froze. I just couldn’t engage myself to speak or act. ‘Got to dash’. Was he in such a hurry to get away from me? Were we still journeying through our lives at such a different pace that even now he could not pause to take this in. Would he miss it yet again? Would I?

He paused just longer than he had intended to and I could see the hurt in his eyes. He really didn’t want to dash, but that was his way of coping, the way he thought he could be free.

And as he turned away, I let him go. Life was too important to me to live at that pace, and he knew that that held true for him too. Perhaps, in time, at a gentler pace our paths would cross once more. But in the meantime, we both had our own journeys to make.