Ruby still isn’t crawling. But she’s moving! She’ll even attempt to overcome barricades if there is a truly exceptional prize on the other side. Like, for example, a mojito.
Unfortunately this new era of mobility also comes with its fair share of head bonks and face plants. I can only imagine what she thinks of as the ground rushes toward her. Probably something to the effect of, “Alas! The end of this wretched sobriety! The end – where all pain is met with minty sweet perfection!”
These must be Ruby’s thoughts I am imagining. Because surely they are not my own. I happen to know that mojito is non-alcoholic. And the immediate and incessant crying leads me to believe these falls are, in fact, painful.
For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, Cheney gave me this prompt: The ground rushed toward her, and when she met it there was no pain, only the darkness of the end. (Kill your darling.). I had grand plans to actually take time, expend energy etc. to write a short story this week. But I started reading a book instead. Thus, this sort of pathetic response. Sorry Cheney! The prompt was a good one and, unfortunately, a bit wasted on me!
I gave Jester Queen this prompt: I wanted my life to start – but in those rare moments when it seemed like something might actually change, panic shot through me.’ –Curtis Sittenfeld