UNDER THE WILL… OVER THE DRAMA…

Category: Daily Writing Prompt

  • Ask Me Tonight…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Honestly WP? It’s morning, so your guess is as good as mine. By the time evening rolls around, I might be raiding the biscuit tin, half-asleep in my chair, or glaring at Bully’s truck out the window. (Yes, that counts as a pastime.) But evenings also have their way of surprising me. Sometimes they slip…

  • Eye Contact or Red Flag…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    For me, it’s the eyes. Always the eyes. If someone can’t look you straight in the eye, I immediately feel like something shady is going on. You can talk all you want, but if your gaze is darting around like a trapped fly, I’m not buying it. And don’t even get me started on the…

  • The Perfect Week According to Heff, Granny, and the Gang…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    An Ideal Week, Bully-Free (With Commentary from Beyond the Veil)… My ideal week starts the same way every day: with Heff waking up at daylight (even though the damn dog can’t see!), demanding breakfast like the undisputed king he is. Nothing, not tea, not painting, not even a thought, happens until Heff is fed. Once…

  • Beyond the Arena…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Honestly? None. This is one of those prompts I’d rather skip. I used to be all in, I cheered until I was hoarse, lived for the energy of the crowd, and kept track of every stat as if it mattered in my own life. Sports were once a big part of my world. But somewhere…

  • Relaxation, one boiling kettle at a time…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Relax? Well now, that depends on the day and the mood, doesn’t it? Sometimes I think relaxation is less about what we do and more about what we stop doing. I stop chasing. I stop overthinking. I stop letting the world in with its noise and nonsense. That’s when the quiet sneaks back. For me,…

  • Maybe I Can’t…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Maybe I can’t! Words are like my lifeboats, scattered all over the sea. Some keep me afloat, some drag me under, but they all belong to me. Giving one up feels like being told to choose between tea and coffee, cruel and unusual punishment. But alright, let’s play. What word could I possibly surrender? Maybe…

  • No Room in My Head for Rent-Free Tenants…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Now, by all rights, I should be! I’ve got a zillion reasons stacked up like family drama at a Christmas dinner, and every single one of them would give me the right to slam a door, curse a name, or carry a chip on my shoulder the size of a mountain. But here’s the thing:…

  • 9,000 Kilometers and No Barry’s in Sight…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Now, before we go any further, let me be clear: in this post, I’m talking about a physical journey, not one of my usual mind-journeys (those can travel far further without ever leaving the armchair!). I’ve done my fair share of traveling over the years. I even lived for many years in the Pacific Northwest…

  • Sun, Sand, and a Slightly Rebellious Home…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    Oh, let me tell you… my dream home would be somewhere gloriously rural, with the kind of countryside charm that makes you want to put your feet up and never leave. And yes, it must be close enough to a beach that I can saunter down in flip-flops or bare feet, hair doing whatever it…

  • From Heff to Heaven: What Brings a Tear of Joy…

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    by

    Mae Faurel
    in

    For me, it’s those quiet, unexpected moments that catch me off guard. The sight of an old friend’s laugh lines deepening with genuine happiness. A tiny bird bravely building a nest on my windowsill, oblivious to my staring. Or a message from someone I love, simple and unpolished, that hits me right in the heart.…