Nincella
It's 6am, the chirping bird alarm sings, and I'm so groggy below the warm, puffy blankets. He rolls over in one of those big bed-moving heaps, wraps his arm around me and burrows his lips into my neck, smooching kiss after cozy kiss, waking me into the day.
The outdoor ice rink was a flurry of fluttering scarves around skaters' necks, black and white ice skates bending ankles, whips of giggles rounding corners.
What does it mean when your first instinct is to go with the negative meaning? Why do I think of peeling the chaff off the outer layer of my body hoping to find something better underneath rather than going for the silly and playful, chaffing at myself for going for the negative?
Maybe I've become shale. Hidden beneath the bigger rocks. Flattened by time and life. It's not a bad sounding word. Better than sludge. Shale I tell you my story? I bet you want to hear it.
Try telling a tiny little tale over and over and over, tumbling it around in your mouth, until hints of truth, the bigger story, peak through.
She watches her mother's eyes, the sparkle, the glint, but is it real, or is it just the cloying, overload of charm she can't stomach anymore?
The little cowboy, barefoot in his dungerees, straw in his mouth, squinted out yonder through the morning light, through the slats in the fence, wondering where his pony ran off to.
Clean house, clean dishes, clean clothes, clean hands, clean face, cleaned up attitude, cleaned up language, cleaned up life, cleaned up head, cleaned up heart, cleaned up hope.
Shade is luxury. It's stepping into royal satin slippers, your court rushing to drape you head to toe with wisps of waterfalls that never dampen, only caress with cool silk.
writing since 2026 · 15 entries · 14 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Nin showed up.
5longest streak
14days written
2.4entries / week
the words Nin reaches for
cleanedcleanheadmouthhorseshadeluxurysteppingroyalsatinslipperscourtrushingwispswaterfallstoe