I got together with a couple of other writers the other day as an impromptu “writer’s group” and the first thing that the organizer had us do was five minutes of free writing. She said just to write whatever you want for those five minutes. I thought that I might share what I wrote. I guess that it shows my anxiety over the end of the summer.
I didn’t know what to expect. I never know what to expect. Of course, that’s what makes life interesting, isn’t it? And terrifying. You never know if the next event is going to change your life or just be another in the countless moments that disappear into the vagueness of memories. I know a lot of people that live for that uncertainty. It excites them. It gives them an adrenaline rush. I’d had enough of uncertainty. It doesn’t give me adrenaline. It gives me heartburn. Of course, life doesn’t give you the option to just stop where you are, so I opened the door, walked though, and announced, “Welcome to class. I’m your history teacher.”
Looking at it, it seems small for five minutes of work, but I can guarantee that I couldn’t have written any faster. How about you? If you had to write for five minutes, what would it say?