52 Weeks 500 Words
This is how it began: Justine (not her real
name) decided to write 500 words (or as near as), anything goes, per week for 52
weeks. She would then submit it for anonymous posting, via me, her friend.
Perhaps a pattern will emerge from her words, but at this stage it’s more an
experiment I have agreed to share in. I’ll attempt to draw conclusions at the
end of this. Stay tuned if this resonates with you.
Week 28
"Life is full right now. I’m editing my novel and I’m in a
new relationship (told you I’d tell you more later!).
Unfortunately this makes me more paranoid than ever. Remember
the entry about busyness? How we use busyness as an excuse not to think, feel
or act? This is at the root of my current paranoia. My fear is that I am now so
busy I may be in denial about something I should be addressing. How strange are
we? Always with the second-guessing.
And yet life IS full … and pretty good.
The editing is going well, and it seems the book may just get
a little longer with a bit more depth, and I’m enjoying it. With the story
completed, I’m actually finding it easier to see the story, if you can
understand that. I see where the plot holes are, where more is needed, or stuff
needs to be trimmed, and every edit (hopefully) makes it a better book.
My relationship is pretty good too! He’s a great guy,
attentive and compassionate, with a romantic touch, while being also a
no-nonsense sort of person. For me, a perfect combination. He is strong when
necessary and a softy on the inside. Of course, it’s early days and this is the
‘honeymoon’ period, but so far so good. We don’t see each other that often, but
enough to know we are both serious. And when we’re together, we have fun and we
have more serious times also, learning both the good and the bad about each
other. We are no longer youths wearing rose-tinted glasses, and we know to be
cautious given our previous experiences, and yet there is an undeniable
connection. We talk a lot!
So why the paranoia?
Is there something I’m overlooking, if not deliberately? Is my
sub-conscious trying to tell me something? It’s neither the work nor the play
of the present, I know, because I've already analysed both factors and they
come up fine. Is there something on my back-burning mind I cannot now see?
I paused here, in the
writing of this, for as I completed the back-burning sentence something fiddled
at me mind.
This sense of discomfort might have something to do with my
brother. As I wrote and paused, I saw his face before me. Remember, we
reconciled in December? We promised we would stay in contact and visit each
other? That remains true. We phoned each other, messaged and mailed, continue
to do so, and we plan to get together in July. Right. Why did I see his face
then?
It’s now a day later
and I’m returning to finish this entry.
My brother broke his leg yesterday. He’s fine. We spoke and
laughed for hours last night, so he really is okay. He needs to live with cast
and crutches for a while, but that’s it. How did he break his leg? A friend’s
motorbike! They were messing around on a sandy track near them, acting like
stupid teenagers, when he fell … and the machine fell onto his leg.
This is freaking me a bit. I saw his face after questioning
a sense of paranoia … and hear he was in fact injured? Premonition? Is that it?
I’ll let you know about this once I've had time to digest
it. Signing off for now."
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