It's that time of the month again when we participants in the WEP get together and share our thoughts on the monthly theme, set by Denise Covey. This month's theme is as follows:
TIME to sign up for the May challenge - FAILURE...or is it?
Write your stories, poems or get your artwork or photos ready!
You can link up immediately or with your direct link afer you post on your blog.
Edit your work. Word limit of 1,000 words for stories, poems or photo essays.
Publish on your blog between May 21 - 24. Leave a message at WEP when you do.
For my post this month I am sharing a little excerpt from DAPHNE II, which I have just edited - though I haven't edited the rest of the story in a fair while now. Feel free to give me any feedback. :) I'm happy to receive critique of the harshest order as long as you aren't unconstructively mean about it.
I cross Hackett Drive on foot and pick out a shady patch of grass under a Moreton Bay fig tree. I settle on the grass facing the river, and manage a smile, even as my nose wrinkles.
While Matilda Bay is a beautiful spot, currently it smells a bit like dead jellyfish.
I turn my thoughts to all the good things I can identify about this moment: the gentle breeze washing over me, the rustle of wind through leaves, the acceptable distance between me and the nearest traffic.
Slowly I draw breath, imagining my lungs expanding and my ribcage stretching around them. The stress is a fist in my sternum but I'm determined to rid myself of it. I try to focus on the good things--the small miracles that grace my reality. I'm fortunate to be here, to be able to attend such a beautiful campus. I'm definitely privileged. But right now those good things are being quickly overwhelmed by other aspects of my existence that I usually refuse to think about at all.
I'm in completely over my head here.
I need to think about the stresses, because to deny them is to delay the inevitable devastating freak-out. So I breathe slow and steady, close my eyes, and let little cracks begin to form in my defences. Reality seeps in, though I'm controlling the amount of flow, and suddenly I'm letting myself consider what it is that truly terrifies me.
What the hell would I do if I failed? What if I bombed all my assignments and screwed up all my exams and failed this entire semester? What would all those snobby friends of my mother's have to say then?
And what will I do with my Arts degree? I didn't care about that question at all until people started hassling me about it, and not just my mother's snobby socialite acquaintances either. My own friends do it, too. Even Daniel never got it.
Nathan does, I realise in surprise. He's in the boat with me. He's doing a useless degree just like I am. But I can't see him failing at anything. Whatever his long-term plans, he strikes me as the ambitious type. He's independent and strong-minded. I could totally imagine him going places, even if he doesn't go the traditional route.
In short, when I look at that guy I see one hell of a bright future. I just wish I could see the same thing for myself.
(411 words - according to wordcounter.net)