creative collision-ing
Adverse conditions led to a pile-up in Typist’s cranium. Fluids mixed, congealed, and leaked.
Thalia shouted from the left. “C’monnnnnn! Let’s just go! — Nobody’s hurt!”
Urania dug in her heels on the right. “Must wait for an officer.”
Calliope looked at her food color stained palms. Unbridled peals of laughter bubbled from her depths as she remembered a phrase gifted from an early writing acquaintance. “Why… so… serious?”
Fluids continue to mix, congeal, and leak — yet, the creative act of raiding an old toy bin and staging the photo above shifted everything!
Isn’t that wonder-full?
The only person responsible for my mood is… ME!
No piles of vehicles or piles of snow, but gatherings of thoughts and memories that makes my creative collision-ing.
“Fluids mixed, congealed, and leaked.” That’s a pretty good indication a stop at the “body” shop might be in order! Tal’s outburst is a “dead” giveaway she would hit and run without a second thought. 😱 As always, I’m sure you’re grateful for Nia’s thoughtful, logical processing of information. 🤔 Calliope? That Muse seems more and more given to expressions of mirth. Delightful.
“You can start your day over at any time.”