Unfinished Work

Like a character out of a children's story, I set out on a personal quest. An adventure East, a journey North. Except I would write it myself... An actual book. Can you believe it?

I imagined I would sit and throw all my  thoughts and life experiences on the page and pray something would stick. And then, almost too easily, it did. Like the words had been silently waiting, ever ready. 

I'd started this journey to challenge myself... To prove I could do it. Amazingly, the real challenge became how to stop. How not to write. How to go about life outside the lines? To sit at a desk and work for an invisible prize.

How had I let any of the days pass by unwritten? How did anyone?

Suddenly, it wasn't enough...one mere book. 

I needed to write a new one every week, everytime I went to sleep. Another as I woke up. A fresh chapter each passing moment. Nothing could go to waste. Every day under the sun was an armload of stories I hadn't begun.