My prompt reply

I got a fun little list of writing prompts from WordPress and decided to play along in a manner of speaking. Here’s the one I chose . . .

Imagine that you’re blind, but you have been granted one day to see. What day would you choose?

If I was seven years old, this would’ve been an easy one but at forty something, this isn’t so much a question as an accusation. I’m being asked to leave my entire life on the cutting room floor and choose one day? One day is a pretty complicated request. So, while I dig the Zen aspect of the question for its theoretical abandon, I’m too superstitious to stamp one day to my passport.

My first game at Yankee Stadium? The Yanks lost to a really crappy A’s team. My father engaged in verbal fisticuffs with a guy several rows in front of us. Actually, I think being blind would’ve made this day more memorable than it was.

Losing my virginity? It lasted maybe three minutes after which she kicked me out. What would I do with the other 23 hours and 57 minutes?

-The first time I ‘primed the pump’? Mom had warned me I was going to go blind if I did that. I wouldn’t want to push my luck.

-Graduating High School? Which time?

The birth of my kids? I went temporarily blind on both occasions, and I was okay with that.

My wedding day? Or the day I signed divorce papers?

-The first time I laid eyes on Vera Farmiga? That would be really creepy if I remembered the actual date. I do recall it was Saturday afternoon at 2:31, it was an unseasonably warm day for March, 62 degrees. Umm, anyway . . .

The best kiss ever? It was New Years Eve and I was a little tipsy. Someone told me it was Johnny Depp, and that’s really as much as I wanna know.


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