As long as I can remember, I loved writing. it didn't mean anything to me when I was younger, but as I grew, I realized that i could really express my thoughts and feelings through writing. I wrote about anything and everything, some lost and some still etched in the back of my mind. I could relate with those who felt the need to just WRITE and felt safe and stable when I wrote. I watched movies and read books about writers. I sympathized with the great writers who were constantly rejected and felt the frustration they did when they wrote and wrote and just wrote.
My biggest achievement since late was having my story published in a local newspaper. Many may not understand the excitement and joy I feel when this happened, but it just, to me, felt like a man in a desert, his feet are filled with blisters and sores. his lips are peeled and cracked, his throat is on fire. he has been burnt by the sun over and over that the pain is now a slight sting; but a far off is an oasis filled with green trees, coconut and cool water. its far and the journey is treacherous, but he will soon fill his dry, sore lips with cool, cool water.
Enjoy my story, a qualified entry in the Pixel Hose writing competition, by clicking the link below
http://pixelhose.com/last-breath-by-johnson-renee/
Renee'
