Take out the papers and the trash

I told stories. The room was full of faces waiting for something worth their time, I had no notes and no real plan, but I did have a head full of words.

I always have a head full of words. Big ones, small ones, funny ones, sad ones, totally made up ones and this was the first time in a long time I’d loaded them up and fired them.

90 minutes without a pause or a prompt and with only the slightest of trip-ups (I’m pretty sure I got away with it, but for next time I must remember that the sun rises in the “East” not “Eh… er… that way”) in front of the harshest of critics and the most unforgiving of audiences. Holly’s primary 6 class.

I had my jacket in my hand, but we had one more tale instead of the prep they were supposed to be doing for the exam next day, so it was late when I left. Joyfully late.

Keeping words to yourself would on the face it appear to be a good idea. I don’t know though.

I’ve missed my words.