Yesterday I told someone that I hadn’t written in a long time because the only inspiration I could see around me was laced in grief. Oddly enough, I heard that same person later talking in metaphors about the light of a flashlight.
He was describing how the light of the flashlight leads you forward, and how the light also moves forward as you move forward. If I look at the path the flashlight shows me, I can see that it is ok to move forward. The ground is solid beneath me, and it is now safe to look around at the path that lay before me.
I was inspired to write an epic post, and it has already turned into several different posts. The stories are flowing onto the page, but it isn’t graceful. I think it will take time for me to find my post-apocalyptic voice. That is why I decided to start with this, whatever this is.