Time is an Illusion
A 100 words a day practice. Join us!
Hi friends,
I’m doing something a little different this month. I’ll be coming to you daily with 100 word micro-flash pieces! A fun challenge that I hope you’ll join in with if you feel moved to. Special thanks to and for thinking this into existence! I am forever in awe of their creativity and support. What will follow over the coming weeks will be memoirish snippets and possibly some fiction. No rules exist here! Just a fun little challenge to keep creativity flowing. Hope you enjoy.
Xoxo,
Mesa
I heard once in a movie that when we grow up our hearts die, I’m haunted by the notion forty years later. Acutely aware that as it’s beating, a final countdown has begun. Bargaining with Father Time, laughter in response. Silly girl, your heart’s dying, spend your time wisely.
Once upon this time I thought myself clever enough to be a poet. All the world’s a stage, in this here and now space. “Time is an illusion,” Father Einstein espoused, I’m inclined to believe him. Laughing, cherishing the beats of a whole heart, moving in time to a poet’s drum.
Thanks so much for being here friends! Please feel free to share your own 100 words in the comments if you want to, or make your own post and tag me, Vickie (Dark, Darker, Darkest) and Stephanie (Light it up). Shoutout to
for sharing your piece today!! 🖤🖤If you’re enjoying these pieces please consider subscribing! Your support means the world to me ♥️
Since your tiny love story pieces for the NYT I though about mine and I thought and thought, and today it emerged, some @Mesa Fama here is my very own very first attempt for a micro story:
"My mother, always eager to bring people together, has invited her gynecologist and her 6-year-old daughter over for Christmas cookie baking. The girl is engrossed, hands deep in flour and dough, but her mother seems less interested in baking.
I sit quietly, flipping through my photo album from an epic trip to the US, feeling like a stranger in this familiar space. The mother glances over, intrigued, and soon leans closer, asking about the photos. I begin to speak, recounting stories of canyons and endless highways. She listens intently, her presence warm and undemanding. In that simple, unexpected moment, I feel truly seen—just as I am."
Just fucking brilliant. Your words permeate visuals of enlightenment. Thank you for sharing.