Rain washes over this place in a torrent of violent anger. At first there is mud. Filthy, thick, black mud clinging to everything. The bottom of your shoes, the cuffs of your pantleg, to tires, and cars. Cars idle on the side of the road, spinning their tires, going nowhere. There is no one to call for help. The powerlines are down.
Broken limbs from giant trees litter the ground. When you aren't stepping in mud, you are tripping over limbs and landing hands down in the mud. You wipe the mud on your shirt, the sleeve of your coat. Going anywhere seems to be hopeless. Wherever you go, mud is found.
It has been a beautiful day. A very messy one...but a beautiful one!
We were awakened, on schedule, at 7:00a.m. by the kids squealing, the dogs' barking, the shining sun and my husband...was snoring. *smile* (It takes him a while to wake up.)
Feeling lonely of heart and crowded of mind, I took a walk by a lake near my house. It was an unseasonably warm fall day, my favorite kind. I love the colors of Fall mixed with the warmth of summer. It created an odd stirring in my chest. My empty, barely beating heart thumped to remind me it was still there.
"Symbolic representation of life, at best." I muttered to the little squirrel that had just run a final nut up the tree and into his stash for the winter.
My favorite holiday used to be Christmas. It was the most exciting time for me as a child. Yes, I wanted the presents but it was just magical. The anticipation, the lights, the tree, everything. I remember laying under our Christmas tree and looking up at the lights and falling asleep that way...just mesmerized by the sparkling lights.
Have you ever seen a man's soul lain bare on an alter or heard God speak directly to a man and bring him to his knees? Have you ever heard the voice of an angel?
From your perspective as a writer, or just as a man or woman, (I think that covers everyone who may happen upon this post, don't you?)-what is the single most erotic thing you have ever read? Everything counts...please include as much of the text as you can or paraphrase, I don't care. I am curious...
Does the lyrical quality of a particular author's written 'voice' excite you? Does it make you feel the passionate heat of a lover's body? Does it make you recall that first kiss? The first glimpse of their skin? The first touch of their tongue?