It’s 3:00 p.m. on Monday. I’m sitting here with sun shining in on my desk, cold coffee next to my mouse, revising a chapter. No biggie. Pretty typical.

Various bits and pieces have been flitting through my head lately. Like that short-story idea that’s not an idea yet, the one with a title and that’s it (this post). Also, the notion that my creative-brain feels tight. Clenched. Constipated. I need to loosen up.

I’ve been thinking about posting one of my photos as a writing prompt for you and for me. Once a week, loosen myself up with an hour’s worth of writing play.

All this, somewhere in my head. Meanwhile, just now I took a wee revision break to, what else, flit through the Internet. Low and behold, came upon a blog with photographic writing prompts, and I thought, Huh, fancy this, already out there; still, which photo would I post for my first writing prompt?

I remembered the photo posted here. It’s a memorial bench for Phillip, aged four. Someone had set flowers on the memorial plaque (too bad they’re not in focus). That bench has been bugging me lately, but in a good way: creatively.

I thought, What about that photo? and returned to my revision, la-di-da, and I was in the middle of deciding what to do about this pesky sentence–

I fingered the pill in my pocket, picturing our intermittent and rushed sojourns in the library, the way Jasper’s hands tapped a tune out on my stomach with fingers delicate and precise as spider’s limbs.

–when it hit me that the bench and all the sorrow it symbolizes is the crux of the unknown story entitled “The Season of Dead Squirrels.”

I could be excited.  !!!!! <–yes, exclamation points–> !!!!! Maybe I am!

The randomness and wonderfulness of creativity. Don’t we writers love that?

Okay, back to revisions!

(Not promising I’ll do the photographic writing prompts, just saying. Check out A Thousand Words if you’re curious.)