InkTober: Day 11 – Transport

I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve wished for the ability to transport myself back to a time when I was healthy, and the only pain I had to worry about was sore muscles from exercise or sore feet from dancing all night. I know that’s an impossible and ridiculous thing to wish for, but when you have pain that is always with you, you sometimes desire impossible and ridiculous things to help you feel better. If I could build a time machine to go back in time, mine would probably be the first one devised without nefarious intentions, and I’d have to do everything in my power to keep it out of the wrong hands… 🙂

InkTober - Day 11 - Transport

 

InkTober: Day 10 – Jump

The first thing that popped into my head this morning when I saw today’s Inktober prompt was a poem I wrote a lifetime ago. When I was in university, I spent a lot of time studying in the campus library. It was a massive intimidating space. Whether I was studying alone or with a group of people, some of whom are cherished friends today, I always sat in an area on the top floor. I remember looking down to the main floor one day and suddenly wondering if I’d survive the jump. No need to fret, I wasn’t suicidal. It was just a momentary flash of a thought, which I suppose was stirred by the invincibility we feel when we’re young. That thought eventually became a poem that I’m sharing along with my illustration of today’s prompt.

InkTober - Day 10 - Jump

Here are my musings from that long-ago day in the library…

If I Jump

 

InkTober: Day 9 – Broken

I have broken four of the ten brightly coloured mugs my younger brother bought me for Christmas almost twenty years ago. He was a teenager then, and it made me feel special that he spent so much of the money from his after-school job to buy them for me. Each time I drink from one of them, I’m reminded of my brother and how much I love him. Each time I break one, even though I know it’s not a big deal to my brother, I feel a bit of guilt and disappointment in myself for not taking better care of these gifts he gave to me. Isn’t it amazing how much meaning we attach to things?

InkTober - Day 9 - Broken