Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.
A tiny little river, like tears dripping from the eyes of a person in physical/emotional pain.
Like the drops of rain hitting a window and leaking down to the edge of the pane.
Like the pain from an injury that just won’t completely go away—what used to be a flood is now a rivulet, letting you know it’s still there and you won’t escape any time soon.
Like the milk from a cup that a child has knocked off the table. A puddle first, then rivulets of white.
Like the trickles of fear that riddle your system when you are faced with your own personal nightmare: A snake, a spider, a centipede, a mouse or rat; an elevator, a sheer, unguarded drop from a high place; lightning, tornadoes, floods; having your face held under water, being in a boat, flying in an airplane. It’s a very long list, the things we fear, and everyone’s fears are his own, different from everyone else’s.
Or, better, the rivulets of excitement and joy when something good is about to happen: Your wedding, the birth of a child, a trip you’ve always longed to take; the grandchildren are coming to visit; or even something as commonplace as a recipe turning out perfectly, or that your husband actually remembered your anniversary 🙂
Rivulets of joy, sorrow, fear, excitement, pain and happiness. Life’s little rivers.