Day Seven: Write a short story or poem about rain.
Okie doke, off the cuff:
Pounding now upon the glass Running down in streams Unrelenting stubborn ass Drowning out the screams Know not what the day may bring For all remain the same Each drop brings a painful sting Her soul consumed by shame
Day Eight: How far back in your family tree can you go?
Not very. I’ve never really gotten into genealogy. I vaguely recall my great-grandmother on my mother’s side, and I don’t even know that I ever heard the name of her husband. On my father’s side, I know his parents’ names and that’s about it.
I think my (estranged) father was working on a family tree at one point, as his mother (I believe) was adopted and he was curious about her roots. I’m not sure how far he did or didn’t get because we have never stayed in contact.