Three Little Words

Whilst knitting away the hours this evening, I was watching one of my british shows. This one happened to center around a group of writers who have a little circle meeting every month, and of course one of the writers has it out for the other and someone dies, etc., etc. I had to stop the show and turn immediately to the page because, rather than pique my interest in "whodunnit", it just reminded me that I love to write! I miss weaving tales together, clacking the keys toward a hazy yet exciting destination, breathing life to something that, ten seconds earlier, didn't exist. Is this a fraction of the thrill God felt as he created our reality? Does our urge to create actually stem from that one ancient act of creation? The desire to make a mark on our surroundings is one that is woven into our very DNA. It often makes us who we are, good or bad, and shapes the lives around us as well. As the characters in my show are about to see, the creativity of at least one individual (perhaps more) is about to shape their realities forever. Oh, what a single bit of writing (or a well-placed weapon) can do!