Today's prompt: "The sound of a tent zipper."
Last year I lived in the volunteer campground at a retreat centre in Hawaii. I would often hear distant tent zippers and think for a second that I was hearing children shrieking. It was eerie, especially at night.
What do you think of when you hear that sound? What will happen next?
This time last year, looking at this purple sunrise, I remember thinking I was EXACTLY where I was supposed to be. And being there, everything I experienced while I was there, led me into the next part of my life, when I returned to Vancouver after 3 months on the Big Island, when my 7-year relationship ended for good, when I fell apart and put myself back together, and arrived here today. Stronger than I've been before. (Thanks Ariana Grande.) The light feels so good after so much darkness.
Today's prompt: "A door closed. The next thing I knew..."