Writing Fiction

From the Wheel of Change Tarot, the Six of Cups; from the Oracle of the Dreamtime, the "Waratah:"

          Not too far from a Pueblo village, a collection of pots sit out in the rain. All of them have cracks or broken sections, so they're no longer useful. Yet I imagine the person who placed them there has a sentimental attachment to them. Perhaps a favorite aunt, grandmother or sister made them years ago. They remind me of the file cabinet of memories stored away in my head.
          The Waratah is a flower; the legend is that a bird looking for its mate flew above the tree canopy and into the clutches of a hawk. Even as she was dying, moving from flower to flower, she called out for her missing mate. Did the bird have a previous mate who was killed, and assumed it had happened again? Hakanson says this myth speaks of devotion, yet to me it also implies letting emotions outweigh common sense and logic. When I add the meaning of the broken pots, I see how influential the past can be on my present. Yet like the broken pots that don't retain water well, my memories aren't always complete or true. Though I can learn from the past, it is the present in which I need to be living.

When it comes to the past, everyone writes fiction. ― Stephen King