Bricks. Simple, solid, humble. Like cells, like atoms. Like letters of the alphabet, or the digits from 0 to 9. A dictionary is a storehouse of language bricks, a quarry; take what you need to build your story. Can be arranged in so may ways. Stack them, stick them together, create a whole greater than the sum. There is so much latent in a pile of bricks; unwritten potential, untold disaster.

Will this pile of bricks be a shelter or a wall? Something there is that doesn’t love a wall.  The walls go up, the walls come down. The bricks stay the same – like atoms, like letters. It’s all in how you put them together.

What is Present, not precious?

This entry was posted in Kidstuff, Present, not precious - November 2016, Writing and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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