Walk Among the Heather

The prompt for this week was to use my own name. My name would not count against the word count, making it a total of 101 words instead of the usual 100 words. Since it was to use my own name, I felt my sense of creativity demanded I make this entry autobiographical.

I loathe California. At least, Southern California. I want to live in a place where you can tell which season you’re in just by stepping outside. I place with fall foliage and chilly evenings.

My family lives in California. My husband does not want to leave his parents and siblings, and I understand why. But for me, California is like a pris0n. I feel like I am constantly drowning under the waves of meaninglessness that surrounds me. Nothing matters here; everything is superficial, artificial.

Still, I find hope in the love I bear for my family. If happiness is a choice, I will always fight to make it.




I’m trying a new thing where I’m more positive than I used to be. It’s not very effective; I am always sad because I am too stressed out. Still, I think writing is cathartic whether the words are dark or light. Either way, my soul feels lighter after I poured it onto the page.

The prompt this week was “Recluse.” This one is a love story to solitude.




The themes I’ve focused on for the 100 Word Challenge have proven incredibly cathartic for me. As a survivor of significant traumas and one who lives with multiple disabilities, I find that reaching within to confront the darkness that resides deep inside my soul can be good for me – as long as I don’t do it too often. My trauma had a happy ending: I met my husband, we fell in love, and I found myself in a position to not only pursue my goals at a pace my disabilities can accommodate but exceed them.

These 100 Word Challenges give me a weekly goal; a deadline that I must adhere to in order to participate but one that will bear no consequences should I fail. Participating each week is the perfect conduit for my creativity.

That said, I was absolutely unable to accommodate the run-on sentence clause for this week’s challenge. My stories mean something to mean. They have a purpose. Each one is a form of bite-sized social commentary. Still, I did what I could.