The secrets he kept 4

 The secrets he kept-4

Feb 5 Monday

I supposed to write what I know. And by nature if it is a secret I won’t know about it or will I? The last time I reduced the word to Love, but everyone else’s was so cool “crumbs” was my favorite. Love seems more like a concept than a way to write daily about something. Then I thought it should be feathers which is Jimmy The Crow. But then there is Jim Crow, and I don’t want that. Then there is the “no one liked Germans” then there is that reality. It is associated with extremist thinking. But I’m sure, I think I am, that my dad would’ve not taken an extreme point of view.its just a damn crow. But it was just a row. My aunt rescued crows too! So who actually started it?

10 words

Change my story to feathers and how to build trust

4 words

How feathers build trust

1 word feathers


February 4 Sunday 

The sun pierced through the grey winter. Is it all for love. Can I hear a crow. 10 words Rory’s  ord

February 3 Saturday what is the truth of an essay, depressingly enough we can never know all there is to know. It reminded me of my attempt to understand the impact of paperback books on overall reading. Was the paperback a lesser form of writing because it was not as permanent a7hardcover would the overall education decrease as a result of a less educated populace. 20 words the truth in short forms may be like the impact of the paperback on edification 10 words essays can relay a limited truth that may transcend the writer 4 words essays are lik paperback novellas 1 word pages/sheafs

February 2 Friday 

It’s the day after the first session of the obsessive essayist and we are to write several hundred words, reduce it to 10, then 4 then 1

Of course I’m thinking, but I want to write about secrets. Perhaps I can write about chopping holes in ice. I don’t know why my Dad’s dreams were ones he thought he obsessively needed to share with me. Did he recognize some empathic qualities in me. Did he he think I could interpret dreams like Jacob. The end result was that when I heard the dream I became the keeper of the dream and even today I can see the look on his face, hear the pressured speech, seethe corners of his lips SS they turned down. He was chopping a hole in the ice, it was dark on the other side, but he couldn’t get through to the water. He just kept chopping. Later, 50 years later, when he looked at me as though, and actually didn’t know who I was, I saw his clear blue eyes, practically devoid of pigment. Seemed as though he was now chopping to get through, or maybe that was me. 20 words; chopping ice, clear blue, unable to find a meaning, finding none now. 10 words: ice chips flying reflecting light blue looking for meaning. 4 words: blue ice cups flat 1 word: chips

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