Promptvent - Day 23

25 days of winter prompts to thaw your writers (ice)block - and this year it's all about being Cozy.

Hello and welcome to day 23 of Promptvent!

If you’d like some wintry musical inspiration whilst you write, why not try listening to ‘River’ by Joni Mitchell on Spotify.

Listen to me read the guided invitation via audio below or if you prefer to read the transcript, that is also available for you underneath the audio.

Welcome back to our Promptvent village advent calendar where you find yourself standing once again before the cozy Christmas window.

Bundled up in your warm woolen mittens and thick scarf, you are eager to to know what wintry word of the day awaits you. What world will you step into and discover today? You lean closer, and can feel the eagerness in your fingers as you pull off your mittens and reach for the iron latch on the window, lifting it with care.

You are looking at a beautiful winter night sky ablaze with stars, not too far away is an igloo aglow with soft ambient light. A fisherman sits in a chair just outside with a fishing rod, whose line seems to dip into and disappear into the ice. The sky is dancing with stars, more shooting stars than you have ever seen in your life and the air is so still, you can hear a pin drop.

All of a sudden the red wreathed door to your left slowly opens, inviting you further. You step through the door, and the snow crunches underfoot as you make your way across the stunning landscape, towards the fisherman. The air feels almost holy, as you look around as far as the eye can see, mountains rising as dark shadows in the East and the West.

You feel as if you have reached the edge of the world, where anything and everything is possible. The fisherman has a friendly face and smiles as you approach, gesturing to a small canvas stool next to him. There is a bonfire crackling away and offering some much needed heat, though there is no wind - thankfully.

Suddenly, the fishing line starts to move as something tugs it from the deep. Then the fisherman deftly lifts out a fish. ‘A wish for a fish’, he says with a grin. Your stomach rumbles slightly as he places the fish on a grill placed over the fire. ‘A wish?’, you question, unsure if you get what he means. ‘Yes, ask your ancestors - their eyes are upon you’, he says, his head turning up towards the stars.

You take a moment to sit with this, what do you truly wish for? What wishes have you wished this past year? What have you craved and desired? What would you like to welcome into your life. What wishes for others would you like to make come true? In this expansive land, no dream or wish is too small or big for all the stars to bring down to you in this life.

You make a wish. And then another, which leads to another. Before you know it you’ve begun a sort of prayer and as you open your eyes you notice there are the same number of fishes as wishes you made. The fisherman’s eyes are shining, ‘now eat, and when you are finished - take this paper and pen, write down your wishes and I will put them into the water - next year we fish again and out they will come.’

You take the paper and taste the delicious salty flesh of the fish, reading one word in large cursive script at the top of the page.

It reads: WISH

You smile, next year will be an interesting, wish filled year. And then you pick up the pen - and you write.