Diane Nnaemeka

responds to Hà Minh's Promt: There's an empty chair by the lake. Next to it, an empty boat for one.

I like the way this is written. And the ink is purple, a beautiful color. I also enjoy how her prompt paints a scene.

It is overcast today, and somehow, for me, the prompt also reflects on the sky. I could also be receiving it this way because I was sad earlier.

The empty chair, the boat for one. Are we all alone in some way? Is the empty chair meant to be filled? If so, what would fill it?

For some people, it may be a person to fill the emptiness. For some people, maybe it's a place, a feeling.

The empty boat for one ties into this that we are all alone at some points of our journey.

As you venture out, you realize sometimes you can't bring people with you. There's not enough space. It's meant to be this way, it's not a mistake.

So whenever you see a boat for one, a one-person boat, don't be afraid. You are stepping into another level of your own evolution!

As far as the empty chair, it's up to you.

Whatever is missing, IF something is missing, it's your choice. You can fill it, or not.

Tamryn Erasmus

responds to Noel Fox's prompt:

Vulnerable

- Trusting someone to witness you, hold you, see you without destroying you like the ones who came before.

- A scary opportunity for growth.

Vulnerable.

What does it mean to be vulnerable?

To allow someone to see you?

To let someone love you?

I don’t think it means to be weak.

Far from it.

Vulnerability is strength.

It’s bravery.

Perhaps that is why it feels so terrifying.

Vulnerability. Allowing someone in past the walls.

In to your safe space.

What may they see?

What may they do?

What may they share?

Vulnerability.

− not just you,

but them too.

It’s scary to be behind someone’s walls.

They have walls too.

Do we create a safe shared space?

Or do we just learn to be comfortable in someone else’s shelter?

How much of our identity is lost in the process?

Is it a losing game?

, or is it meant to feel like something that is gained?

Vulnerability.

To be vulnerable.

To see. To feel. To share.

But where does it end?

Does it?

Is there a line one should not cross?

A secret space we hold sacred,

home to none,

but one.

Can that still be labelled vulnerability?

Is it an ”all-or-nothing” kind of deal?

I don’t know how to feel.

Tell me what is real.

I need a meal;

fill me up.