My Lebanese Coin

250 words each day is not easy. I want to be original. I want to be exciting. I want you to read what I say and go “yes! I feel you.” I want these words to seem a little less plastic than everything else you skim through on the Internet.

But to craft prose that grabs you and leaves you satisfied is tough stuff. I have a hunch that nothing of mine is quality unless I’ve spent at least four hours of time on it. But who knows, I suppose writing daily doesn’t necessarily mean dashing off high-quality stuff right away.

These dailies (borrowing a page from Habitica) will likely be journalistic often times. Because it is easiest to stream-of-conscious my way out of the task…

So what happened today. Well most immediately, I lost a Lebanese coin. It came into my possession just two weeks ago and it is already gone. I noticed a flash of silver and the outline of a tree next to my desk leg. I thought it was my Lebanese coin. A wave of relief washed over me, I felt that things were right again. But as I picked it up, I realized it was all wrong. Too big, too much Washington. The up-and-down of hope-then-sorrow caused my heart to sink. I don’t know where my coin is or how he is doing and it is causing such heartache. I hope I find my Lebanese coin.