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Hemingway's Barn
17 Oct 2013
Published To

Stories that waited for paper, now wait for me. 

With so much to say, I search for a worthy beginning. Thoughts that swirled and drifted through dreams, now hide just out of reach. 

Inside his barn, I am filled with something greater. I am filled with possible.

Through the windowpane, I gaze into a towering tangle of dark green leaves.  Trees inspire and shade and watch over me, the same trees that watched him too.

My thoughts are safe inside this space. I am free to explore, free to wonder and wander. The air is full of potential.

A ray of sunshine splits the canopy, brightening my writing table. Dust motes dance.

In the distance, a train rumbles, then and now.

He said there's nothing to writing.  Just sit down at the typewriter and bleed.

And so I bleed.

Non-Fiction Museum/Exhibit Writer Arkansas Southeast
Comments (1)
Talya Tate Boerner Thu, 17 Oct 2013 10:38am

This story won 2nd place in the 2013 White County Creative Writer's competition for the category "Favorite Writing Place".