The kiss that never was is the one you played over and over in your head. It’s the one that was so close to your lips but never actually happened. Do you have a kiss that got away? Was it all for the best or does it haunt you like a friendly ghost?
In the early morning hours, caught between dream and sleep, inspiration struck. I let it simmer for a while, wondering where it would lead. The trash bin? The you’re really not right in the head section of the brain, where you hide the real crazy? Or miracle of miracles, would it bloom into a workable story?
This morning, the inspiration morphed into the story I’d been scrounging around my brain in a desperate search for over the last week. Yay!
For me, inspiration strikes when my brain has time to idle. My first, ever, story idea came to me while, glamour of glamours, I folded a load of laundry. The second came while I dried my hair. The third, while chopping summer squash. Apparently, mundane tasks do it for me. And on occasion, those wee morning hours.
I’m curious when and where does inspiration strike you? Is it random or set like clockwork?