The prompt for day #9
Write about a memory
The Room Where I Write
The room where I write is a sentimental room, on the south wall in the two-story farmhouse where I was born. It’s filled with papers of scribbled ambiguous ideas and though the papers would appear to be carelessly tossed upon my blue carpet, they are not.
Books and a collection of Breyer horses, many from my childhood, surround me. The old and new together, blanket my soul, as do the memories made in this room, where imaginary friends came to play and grand ideas were born.
Out side, my window I watch a woodpecker tap his red headed rhythm upon the suet of the birdfeeder. The horses, heads steadfast to the ground, munch lazily in their own equine tempo, over the carpet of green. Their tails, with no need to brush away flies, are quiet as winter’s last breath cools the air at the gateways of the valley where this old white farmhouse sits, quaint and composed.
The Room Where I Write is snug inside and my room, the ‘write’ room, is a room where imaginary friends still come to play and grand ideas are born.
Kellie M. Shanley © 2009
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