Thursday Chatter | April 30

Good morning, Flames.

It is the last day of April – one of those minor endings within the year. It does not mark the end of anything significant, or draw you to the door of a notable beginning. Could you write an epilogue for April?

Our last piece of writing for April will be an epilogue – the ending to our various plays or stories which wraps them up in boxes and string for the reader’s shelf. When Shakespeare wrote epilogues it was a grand affair. The epilogue to “A Midsummer Night’s Dream” that RicoChey shared in the week four write-up is one of my favorites. He styled them in such a way that he drew the audience into those last few moments of fantasy, as though they controlled whether the characters could end their story in the final scene or would pressed into further service at the whim of the crowd (or fellow dreamers).
In the last few lines The Tempest’s epilogue he wrote:

And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon’d be,
Let your indulgence set me free.

Send the month of April a bardic farewell. Pen a few lines below to wrap up the month and send it off properly before May turns up with her sunshine, flowers, and celebrations.

I send you this mostly unrelated song, because I thought of it while I was typing and it’s a fav of mine – though she does say, “I’m the last splash.” in the first stanza. It’s been a wet April.

What reminders do we have today?
It’s the last day to share a poem for APAD. Kiss a poet today.

You should be writing and RicoChey wants to hear the Epilogue to your three act April story.

There is a sign-up going on for May’s month-long 5k words or less story – the theme for which will be shared on Sunday, May 3rd. You only have until Saturday night to reserve your spot.



About t.s.wright

Writer, reader, casual photographer, nature-lover, dog mom. I grew up in a tree, inside a book, whispering possible futures into discarded seed pods that curled up and exploded each summer. One day, they cut down my tree and I was forced to go to school while waiting for the replacement trees to grow strong enough to hold me. But while we waited, I grew too heavy and awkward to climb, so I had to get a job. I spent my days surrounded by flimsy walls covered in carpet that made boxes and people who forgot to look out windows. I worked really hard. Possibilities were replaced with formulas and exactitude. Eventually I forgot how to climb a tree...and how to smile. Then one day, a dog licked my foot excessively and I remembered smiling. That reminded me of more things that didn't cost money and couldn't be tallied in a spreadsheet - like hugs and love and being happy. So I found myself a Steve who reminded me what home was. Then we filled it and our hearts with dogs. Eventually we planted our own tree, together. Even though I'm happy right here, right now, I remembered that we all need possibilities to dream of, so I've started writing them down.
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One Response to Thursday Chatter | April 30

  1. Pingback: Weekend Wrap-Up | Brigit's Flame Writing Community

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