The Loneliest Road
When they brought the man in he was already unconscious. One man had him by the shoulders and the other by the legs. They could barely hold him up. He offered no help, his body slack from the poison that coursed through his veins.
The two men carrying him placed him on the one empty bed in the infirmary, and they left. They didn’t know him at all, and only noticed him after he collapsed while working in the same field that day.
This man would go nameless as he marched down the loneliest road of life.
This is an excerpt from a post by me at The Write Practice, a blog designed to help with whatever ails you. There happens to be some other stuff about becoming better writers, but that’s just a bonus.
An important aspect of living better stories is being able to write our stories. When we write it helps to process the information. We learn how we want to communicate our stories. We gain perspective on the story we are living.
At the same time, living better stories improves our writing. In this post I discuss an experience in my own life that would change the way I write forever.
Interested in learning more about this man traveling down a lonely road? Go visit the website and become a better writer for it.